


Fallout 4, Feral

by The_Night_Owl



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 06:01:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 37,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13024758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Night_Owl/pseuds/The_Night_Owl
Summary: So, not that you were bitter or anything--but you had more than a bit of... Grief to give to the fellas over at Vault-Tec. Nothing too big, easily solved, all it would take would them returning your old friends kid back.And maybe to paint whatever was left of the world red with their damn guts.





	1. Dropping One Hell of A Bomb

  "It's true! I didn't know that he couldn't get wet- Mrs. Parker's is waterproof, it was an honest mistake" you protested as the robot beneath you spasmed, tentacle-like apendages whipping around wildly as its circuits fizzled and popped. It was true, you really hadn't known that the poor Mister Handy would have just shorted out after just a little juice. Though it didn't seem Nora cared much at the moment, she was a little too busy helping you hold the 'bot down as she screamed for her husband to _'_ _hurry and fix the damn thing',_ while said thing was cheerfully shouting "N-not to worr-worry Mum, just a l-little splash!", to which Nora tutted, giving him a look that clearly said 'shut up'. Codsworth reluctantly obliged, allowing all of you to continiue to fuss over him in peace. Sort of.

After another ten minutes of buzzing around in a panic, with Nora's husband, Nate, practically falling over himself and clumsily spilling his tools across the living rooms wooden floor in his haste to answer his wife's screeching demands. You couldn't really help the smirk that spread across your face at the sight, he was usually so on top of things- it served him right for teasing you all the time, after all. You were an adult. Mostly. Only as far as he was concerned you were a toddler with a drinking permit and a car, that you could legally drive. You only bumped bumpers one time! ...Three times. 

 It almost seemed like everything had calmed down after just shy of half an hour, Codsworth had stopped twitching, and was no longer playing opera music at full blast at random intervals while trying to apologise for his flailing limbs whipping dangerously close to your ears every minute or so. It seemed he was still having a hard time getting his speakers to produce sound, as the any sound that he managed to produce was faltering at best, and there was an undertone of static that grated against your eardrums. Hopefully that would be remedied soon. 

 As Nate settled down on a stool next to the bot, who was still grounded for the time being, and set to work tinkering around inside of the Handyman-bot. He was sending heartfelt grumblings your way, while simultaneously putting Codsworth's fretting to rest with a good-natured chuckle and a grin that crinkled his eyes, which, knowing Nora- would have loved to take a moment to sigh like a lovelorn teenager at the oh so perfect husband of hers. Who cared she had been howling like a banshee at him a few minutes ago? 

 Then Shaun decided he wasn't getting enough attention. Apparently babies are like that, almost like cats, only without the fluff. They slept a lot, that was the extent of your knowledge about them really. And they didn't like being startled, you'd learnt that the hard way. The first week after Nora had returned from the hospital in fact, she'd been pretty relieved to have both Nate amd yourself out of her hair for the time. You'd both formed a strange alliance of sorts, along with Codsworth of course- you'd all waited on the woman hand-and-foot, spoiling her rotten to the point she'd threatened to divorce the man fawning over her if he didn't take a step back for a while. 

 Of course you hadn't been so easily deterred, you had your pride as the best friend in existence at stake after all! Ha! Idle threats be damned. Only she actually had thrown that fork at you and you'd only needed a bandage or two but still- you did good. Only caring for a newborn was a lot harder than it looked, and it had you sending the days of dealing with hormone-fuelled mood swings of a very... Stubborn middle-aged woman, some wistful sighs. It had been a very long road of trail and error. Mostly error. 

 Nora stood as the doorbell rang, groaning and rolling her shoulders, making you cringe at the faint clicking of her joints as she pushed a sweaty stray strand of chestnut brown hair behind her ear. 

 "Okay Maria just--just stay here and help Nate, i'll get it, just don't touch anything"

    "Can I touch the--"

"Don't you finish that sentence if you want to keep that tongue of yours" Nora growled before hopping the drenched sofa. Making a sad attempt at getting the frazzled frizz of her hair under control, before opening the door. Offering a tired smile to the old man standing on the other side, wearing a suspicious looking trench coat and hat that screamed "molester".

      "Eventful morning ma'am?" he cheerfuly greeted, tipping his hat in a far too polite manner. Those crinkly eyes shimmered the colour of raw sewage.

    Naturally, Nora- ever the perfect hostess, fell into step flawlessly, mimicing the overly pleasantness like an Oscar winner. Chuckling a laugh that bubbled from her lips like golden syrup, waving a hand dismissevly. "Oh, you could say that, just a little accident--", you yelped whilst clutching onto a thrashing set of tentacles as Nate plucked an odd wire, "my friend over there got a little too excited with the Handyman".

     "Ah, well, haven't we all?" he laughed, a little akwardly, as no, hardly anyone was dumb enough to wrestle with a practically sentient robot!...Wait. Did she just insult herself in a weird, roundabout way?

Nore politely ignored this. "What is it you're about anyway?".

The wind returned fairly quickly in the guys sails, and he even topped the presantation off with a flamboyant wrist-roll movement as he placed it to his chest. "Well, we're about you ma'am! And helping secure your future. You see, Vault-tec is th foremost builder of state-of-the-art underground fallout shelters. Vaults, if you will. Luxury accomadations where you can wait out the horrors of nuclear devastation".

     Huh, now that you were thinking about it all, you could have sworn that this guy had bothered you earlier this week too. You distinctly remembered opening the door to find the weasly looking man stood there, overly happy smile on his face at Seven in the morning, and thinking: nope. A whole lotta nuh-uh. You'd put a hand over his mouth, sighned the thing without a second look, and then promtly shutting the door in his face.

     "You can't begin to know how happy I am to finally speak with you. I've been trying for days. It's a matter of utmost urgency I assure you"

   Nora sounded uncertain, and you noticed the shift in her stance from the corner of your eye. "What's so important?"

    "Why nothing less than your entire future! I don't know if you've noticed ma'am, this entire country has gone to heck in a hand-basket. If you'll excuse my language, the big 'ka-boom' it's...it's inevitable. And coming sooner than you may think. If you catch my meaning."

    You scoffed loudly and from your place smushed up against the counter. Nate was currently apoligising healfheartedly in your general direction as he pressed something. The clicking noise being your only warning to the octopus-bear hug you found yourself on the recieving end of. The metal felt uncomfortably warm against your flesh, and you felt the miniscule vibrations of internal gears whirring hum through your bones.

   "Now I know you're a busy woman, so i won't take up much of your time. Time being a, um, precious commodity."

    You groaned while tring desparately to detalngle yourself from Codsworth. "you're crushing my face" you tried to assert- though it came out more as a whine. 

     "I'm here today to tell you that because of your family's service to our country, you have been pre-selected for entrance to the local vault. Vault 111."

  

    You heard Nora and Mr. Vault-tec-dude begin to talk over details, mostly a back and forth information swap. Nora desiring to know what holing up in an underground shelter entailed for her and her family, the guy in the fedora being more concerned about her signature than much else.

      Meanwhile, you'd, for the most part, managed to unravel the many appendages from your person. Murmuring reasurrances to Codsworth that it really wasn't his fault. 

      "I've never been so ashamed- i'm unworthy of calling myself a butler" the poor hunk of metal woefully groaned. His voice finally having returned to normal. A heavy steriotypical high-class british accent,very prim and proper sounding. Wonder who thought of that. He certainly was an odd piece of machinery, here, it seemed as though his personality was all his own. A unique member of the family, but a critical part of the family nonetheless. Though, in reality, he was just one of many identical items used in thousand of homes all across the damn country. A product just as much as the coffee pots he made the point of preparing for you each and every morning. You shuddered, thinking of him in such a way really did something to your stomach. Something bad. 

       Nate chose this moment of deep contemplation to bring you back to your senses. "Hey kiddo, do me a favour 'n' check on Shaun? I've got my hands full with Codsworth here" he mumbled, he did that a lot. Had a bad habit of not speaking very clearly when he wasn't looking directly at whoever it was he was speaking to. For some reason it really 'grinded your gears' so to speak--not that you were that much better. 

     Standing up, feeling your spine pop and crackle in all the right places as you rose, you nodded, even though he wasn't looking at you. "Sure, he'll scream himself stupid if he doesn't get fawned over for much longer anyway".

    "He's supposed to be taking after us, not after you, y'now?" Nate quipped distractedly, and you flipped him off with both hands as you slipped out of the kitchen/lounge hybrid and into the hallway. The house itself being on the small side despite first appearances. At the very end of theshort corridor, the path forked to the left and right, Nora and Nate's room on the left, facing the front of the building. Shauns room being directly parralel to his parents's, with the landry and bathrooms both filling in the spaces between. 

      Padding barefoot across the shiny oak floor, your feet welcomes the soft appropriately named baby blue carpet of the little tykes room. With toys tucked away semi-neatly against the walls (meaning Nate's handiwork), and others propped up on dust-free shelves (Nora's attempt at keeping the room relatively clutter-free). Shun's cot was set towards the back left corner of the room, just a foot away from the window, with a cute little mobile hanging just out of reach of the little baby fingers grasping upwards. 

    "Hey there little guy- what's all the sniffling about?" you cooed, rubbing a finger against a chubby tear-stained face. Apparently, shaun decided that you touching him had somehow offended his great ancestors, and the little scrunched up face proceeded to bawl even louder. At least you could say you made an effort and this was totally in no way your fault. Blowing out a dissapointed sigh, you slid to the floor, arms folded and leaning into the cribs mini prison bars.

    "Aww little man, you're gonna make me cry too if you keep this up- look at me, i'm all sad and everything" you complained, the baby actually had the gall, as if to make a point, to stop, stare at you right in the eyeballs, then continiue crying. The little fucker. "Why am I not good enough?" you drew out, propping your head up against the bars in a sulk. "Why can't we be friends? Is it Teddy? Huh? Has he replaced my companionship? What does the fluffbutt have that I don't?"

      "Well for starters he's fluffy, can't really argue with that"

    You jolted, eyes swerving up from the tiny bundle of wailing infant to meet the mocking eyes of the retired soldier. "Yeah, well I can bake cookies so, I think that autimatically makes me better".

     "You mean those lumps of charcoal were supposed to be cookies?"

      "Yes.", you deadpanned, staring deep into the far too amused eyes of the Ex-soldier, who you had assumed had eaten worse things than your cooking before. Apparently your reputation in the kitchen had become the standard for awful. You'd take that as a compliment. Hey, technically you were the best. At being the worst.

     You were instantly rewarded by a hearty guffaw from the older man, the sound, while not quite as melodious as his wife's, was oddly charming. The deep shadows under his eyes almost seemed to dissapear, and he looked just as young as you for once. 

       This itself wouldn't ordinarily be anything to cough at, but over the past few years-- he'd been suffering so much. Poor Nora had been delighted to have her husband return home after so long in the "missions". Though his time in the military had...had cast a large shadow over his face. The night terrors had been awful, well, you'd never seen it with your own eyes, but you'd certainly heard it, from your place cowering in the guest room. The aftermath had left the lovebirds to become estranged from one another for a while, Nate feeling both shame for his inability to cope and to have survived in place of his comrades. Nora worying herself sick about the husband pushing her away, leaving both of them frustrated and winded. That was until you punched the guys lights out of course.

  There were probably more refined or sensible ways to handle the situation as a whole, but you had to admit, knocking the ex-soldier's lights out after watching him brush Nora off for the thousandth time felt really good. That, and it had actually worked. Nobody was more surprised about that than you. Okay maybe it was pretty damn surprising for Nate too but that's not the point. He'd flown straight over the sofa like a ragdoll at the expense of shattering your wrist. It had been so worth it.

     After your very manual flip of the switch, Nate seemed to have an epiphany of sorts. The blow to his jaw bringing him to realise that his behaviour had, shock horror, not just effected him, but everyone else around him. You'd seen the vow in his eyes to clean up his act, starting with spoiling his wife rotten with a veriaty of very upscale, fancy-shmancy meals out to some of the best restaurants the city had to offer. Then, in a little snippet that you'd really wished Nate hadn't felt the need to inform you of, had very involved make-up sexy times to make up for 'wasted time'.

     The happy moment however, was swiftly interrupted by a very concerned sounding Nora. "Hey- hey, Honey? Mari? There's something on the news", you could hear the volume being turned up a little, and Nate carefully took shaun into his arms as you both made your way back into the lounge. Codsworth, apparently having made a swift recovery, was busily bothering a squadron of coffee mugs.

     You were the first to approach the small telelvision screen, which was showing a single reporter sat very eerily at a wide, rectangular desk. His face ashen and grave, even though the image was entirely colourless, the news he had to offer only adding to the firgure's miserable disposition. Meanwhile, Nora had a knuckle-white grip on the hem of her shirt, as soon as she spotted her husband, she quickly shuffled over towards him. Her hands migrating towards the little bundle in his arms.

       You only caught "...Confirmed reports of detonation in new york and, pennsylvania...My God.", before the screen cut off, airing nothing but a 'stand by' sign flickering on the glass. Well, that sure didn't sound good. This...was the right station, right? Not a drama programme? The real deal?

     Your stomach dropped, you felt sick. Something stuck at the back of your throat, and you turned to the couple for comfort. You were quickly pulled into a motherly embrace, the older woman fawning over you, a soothing hand tangling in your hair, a strong hand squeezing your shoulder. The couple eying eachother uncertainly.

    You all jumped as a unit as the sirens started up. First beginning as disheartened wail, steadily growing into a steady, piercing shriek. The sound mournful, as though grieving for a world already lost. The war was at an end, the bombs had been, quite literally, dropped.

       Your brain didn't register the panicked conversation shared by the two crushing you to their bodies. You only felt as you were being ushered outide by the hands that had been caressing your hair. Mind too preoccupied with reliving back all the memories left rotting in the corner, the sounds leaving them all to rush into your mind like a tidal wave. The woman hurriedly tugging you down the street, your bare flesh of your feet scraping against the sharp concrete. Nate hot on your heels, cradling his child with wide, startled looking eyes. Every flashback of war playing behind his eyelids as he ran to get his family to safety. Distantly, you thought of Codsworth, and that you were all leaving him behind. You turned back to stare at the door left wide open, and spotted the distinct figure of your robotic friend, still standing at the doorstep as you all ran into the brush.

      You felt the soft earth crumble beneath your feet as you ran, heart beating a million miles a minute as your life was torn at the seams all around you. Neighbours and strangers alike sobbing, taking in quick, panicked breaths all around you. Turning every which way, quite literally not knowing where to turn.

       Suddenly, a hand slammed hard against your chest, disoriented mind jarring just as much as your body at the impact. Hands clawing for the hand that slipped from yours.

       A large soldier, donned in full set of power armour, standing imposingly between you, Nora and Nate. "Name miss, or no entry". There was a fucking nuke getting ready to buttfuck the country-- this guy really thought you had time for this shit?!

      "M-Maria, Maria Daniels" you managed, and the man scanned a checklist for a few seconds, nodding your acceptance when he found your name. Thank god you'd signed a thing, or you'd have literaly died for being anti-social.

    As you rushed past, you heard the vault-tec representative's familiar voice demanding entry. Only to balk at the soldiers denial. You didn't hear what was said next, but you did see the soldier aim his bulking minigun in his direction, before you were forced to tear your head away. In front of you sat a large, cirular flatform, with a handful of people already stood on it. There was a beautiful view at the top of the hill, looking down at the neighbourhood you'd fled from just moments before. You all joined the cluster, stood waiting for something, as you watched the nuke drop straight from the sky.

      The mushroom cloud rose so high into the sky that it almost completely blocked out the sun. The awful black spreading like a virus across the heavens. The resulting shockwave running through and across the ground like a visable force, eventually slamming straight into you like a truck. The heat scortching your flesh for a fraction of a second, as the ground below your feet slowly enveloped you into the earth. Closing over you almost like some sort of coffin that went both ways. You'd left so, so many people up there, to die.

       "Maria? Marie sweetie are you alright? It's okay, we're safe now, can you say something? Please?", Nora's worried voice brought you back to reality, and you blinked away the fog to find her eyes centimeters from your own. Ah, right, you still handn't said anything. You nodded slowly, "I'm good, j-just, shit, everything's just...". What was there to say? "Everything was fine this morning, and now...".

     "We hear ya hon, but don't worry, we're all here, together, ain't nothing gonna change that. We'll be fine" Nate assured you, and his wife, smiling so warmly that you found yourself feeling that he was right. You would be alright. The conviction in his voice was too powerful to ignore. "Besides, knowing you so long I honestly doubt a nuke would be enough to take you down" he quipped, ruining the moment and earning a hearty slap from his wife. "What? She moves like a damn squirrel!" he complained, rubbing at his cheeck, which had flared bright red. His eye watering a little, moisture leaking from his tear ducts.

     "Too. Soon." Nora hissed, delacetely swiping the small bundle from his arms and agressively hooking hers through your own. Even with everything going on, you smiled. This was what being loved felt like. 

    You allowed yourself to be half tugged-half dragged up the small flight of stairs. Nate grumbling quietly to himself as he trailed behind. Now that you weren't currently brain-dead from shock, you slipped back into a happier persona. 'Oo'ing and 'aa'ing at all the, if you were completely honest, less than appealing living acomidations. Machinery poking out of walls and piped filled with unknown fuilds and or gasses lining the upper cielings, as well as the lower walls. It was like something straight out of one of those sci-fi movies, only everything was in a hidious blue colour, with bits of an equally offending red thrown in for good measure. Anything else being a metallic silver, only not shiny, more like a dusty spoon, only everywhere, and not a spoon.

     After trotting over a rickoty little walkway, leading into a fenced in gate where everyone had been quued up. With a scrawnily built man manning a terminal, you were then directed into a small area just a few paces away. With a handful of boxes stacked on and underneath some tables set up neatly to the right side of the room. Another corridor leading further into the structure just past the staff adorned in crisp, white lab coats that looked almost impossibly tidy.

    "Step over to the table. take a suit" a voice instructed you, and you complied, shuffling forwards in toe with Nora, shaun gurgling contentedly as the noise had settled down.  

     "You'll need you suit before we can take you further" a woman politely asserted, holding out a small stack of the same hideiously blue skintight garments that a handful of the staff were dressed up in. Apparently whoever had designed this place had something against style, or acceptable asthetics in general. Gingerly picking the fabric in between your forefinger and thumb as if it was about to snap at you, you unhappily accepted the abomination offered to you. Snorting at the miserable look flashed to you by Nora. "what's with all the sour looks ladies?" Nate rumbled from behind you, only to hear him balk loudly at the sight of the blue and yellow cloth. He was soon reducedto high-pitched giggling, until his beloved wife pointed out that they were unisex. Meaning his was just as offensive to the eye as yours.

  "Just follow the doctor here, he'll tell you where to go" the woman said, nodding towards a man standing just at the corridors entrce, bowing his head slightly as everyone's attention focused on him.

"All right you three, follow me" he asked in a curt voice, nice enough but definately with a hint too much of proffessionalism for a group of traumitied civillians. You scoffed at him under your breath, heh, of all places you could've ended up, you get stuck down here with this stick-up-his-arse type. He seemed to sense this almost as soon as he finished his sentence, and corrected his tone pretty quickly.

   "Oh you're going to love it here. This is one of the most advanced facilities--" he praised, "not that the others aren't great, mind you" he assured as an afterthought, and Nora cleared her throat, passing Shaun over to Nate as she fiddled with her suit.

"How long do you think well be down here?"

"Oh, we'll be going over all that in orientation. Just a few medical items we have to get through first"

   The doctor stopped at the endof thehalwino a filled with bulky containers. Turning towards hhislittle clique of housewives and well-to-do buisnissmen of a cookie cutter neighbourhood. Something flashed in his eyes, but it was gone before you really had a chance to process it. Could that have been...remorse? "Just step in here, and put your vault suit on"

    You slid into yours just pulling it on over your own clothes, only to be pulled back by a hand on your shoulder just before you could step into yours. A womans face greeted you when you turned your head, smiling warmly with golden brown eyes. Her lips were pale, and were downturned in a frown, her round face giving the impression of a kicked puppy. "Sorry ma'am, but i'm going to have to ask you to come with me" she greeted, hand firmly lingering on your shoulder, steering you away from the capsules.

     Nate stepped out of his, still cradling shaun to his chest, concern etched on his features, mirroring your own.

      "Hey, doc, there a problem? Why can't she stay with us?"

      "There's nothing to worry about Sir, our monitoring staff just detected an irregularity in her vitals, so we'd like to give her a quick run down before we subject her body to decontamination".

     Nora piped up, "irregularity? Is that dangerous?", the woman gave a noncommital shrug, "we can't really be sure until we've ran few tests, but rest assured that if it is anything to worry about, our medical staff aquipped with the finest medical equiptment in the country".

"That doesn't make me feel better"

    You got a stony look in response, beforethe doctor lady began walking away. You waved an uneasy little goodbye to your friends, before trotting to catch up, passing by a few mmorelucky neighbours who made to the vault in time. Eventually stopping at the farthest end of the vault, where there stood a dead-end, a handful of other people gathered by, looking just as confused as you.

    Just as you opened your mouth to complain, you felt a rough grip snake its way to your scalp, tangling in your hair and yanking your head back. A gloved hand closing around your eyes, something sharp stabbing into the soft flesh of your neck before you even had the chance to reach back and kick your attacked in the nards.

. Somebody somewhere nearby screamed, and you heard footsteps scuffle around you as your limbs began to droop. The strength seeping out of you, a controlled pair of hands lowering your limp form to the ground.

 Before you slipped away, the thought struck you. You'd been contaminated with radiation before-- why had you thought those damn pods were real? 


	2. Life Underground

Waking up was an... Experience. Cracking your eyelids open in and itself was a challenge, it felt like the thick gum of sleep had glued them shut tight. The mattress beneath you hadn't felt like a mattress at all, it was freezing, and hard, and the noises buzzing around your head sounded less like a bedroom and more like a hospital. You could see the light blaring into your eyes even with them shut, had you left the lamp on? Only peeling open after a few attempts with an audible pop, and the bright glare assaulted you like the sun itself was trying to press itself into your corneas. Then the events of, well, yesterday? Came flooding back. 

    Those fuckers had actually attacked you. You and a whole cluster of civilians. Had the place been taken over by terrorist or something? This place was supposed to be a safe haven! Nora and Nate were in here--more importantly Shaun was stuck down here too. Maybe Nate sniffed the rat out? No, you had always been better at reading the dips-shits from the shit-dips, if you hadn't smoked em out then Nate wouldn't have a damn chance in hell. Jesus christ, well, hey, maybe it was only your group that got got? Maybe everyone else was safe, blissfully unaware of whatever was happening here? 

   Sucking in a sharp breath, the fuzz left your eyes to reveal a face peering down at you. A man, looked to be middle aged, sporting a mug smooth as silt, and eyes crinkled with a smile that seemed to have taken a backseat. Instead, leaving behind a stony expression and cynical, cold eyes boring into your own, and at this moment in time. You knew. You were fucked. Whatever game these guys were playing wasn't being played fair, and it certainly wasn't a good one. 

   Mr. Happyfeet sighed through his nose, turned to a tray that you couldn't see, as your head seemed to have been strapped in place. You heard him noisily  rattling through its contents, settling on a small flashlight, which he shone directly into you eyes. Murmuring absently to himself, "Subject vitals seem to be normal, patient shows no sign of physical trauma--ah" he made a soft noise of acknowledgment. Thick, cleanly kept eyebrows raising upwards in mild surprise. "I see you've finally woken up, Subject...", he glanced down quickly at a clipboard, "FEV-sect 3, well, I assuming that you'll have many questions I expect that you'll want answered. Unfortunately for you i'm not in the buisness to give them nor do I have the time nor patience to indulge you any further than I already have".

    You blinked at his response, sort of stunned at his bluntness. Scoffing a little in disbelief, you furrowed your eyebrows. Feeling ever more frustrated with your position, the bindings only serving to make you feel even more restless. "Well, thanks for that positively swell introduction dude, I feel so much better about my situation now, have ya ever thought about working with kids? Sure you'd be a hit with the lil' ankle bite--" you were cut short by a searing pain blossoming into your wrist. Something invading your bloodstream like acid burning your veins, the pressure feeling like what you imagined it was like to having your arteries ready to burst. It spread throughout your body, slowly, gradually, until it felt like every cell in your body was on fire. The cold steel underneath you had turned into a white hot grill, the air stinging into your pores as the water in your flesh evaporated into the dry heat. 

    It must have only been minutes, but you were so focused on your agony to pay much attention to time.

"Subject seems to be responding well to the virus, we'll give her the standardized dose over a period of three weeks as a base for the experiment. Providing she survives, of course, then we'll just have to see how things go from there on."

 Responding well? You'd already forgotten most of it, good God it fucking hurt so bad. If this was responding fucking well then you really didn't wanna know what a bad reaction felt like. You felt like a fish out of water, in like, maybe the Sahara desert. Which was really damn dry, it more than lived up to its name of "desert desert" no, not just normal desert. The Sahara was hardcore. And you were delirious. Delirious enough to try and distract yourself with bad naming choices. 

 Unfortunately, or rather, fortunately, your body didn't take the very apparent stress very well. At least, it didn't from your point of view. It was almost a blessing when your eyes fluttered shut against your will, the sensation of falling into cool water as your eyes rolled back into your skull. 

 From then on, everything passed as a glorified blur. Vague memories of being rolled around rooms spinning far too fast for you to keep up. Flitting moments of consciousness, often excruciating enough to send you back to the void within a split second of surfacing from it. Eventually you'd learned it was easier to keep your eyes shut, you'd escape much quicker that way. Talking, screaming, sometimes your own, then others. Then something else. Something new, and something bad. So very very bad. Whispers, or were they screams? Everything felt muddled, too much or too little. Or more like it was constantly changing to be exactly the worst possible thing. It hurt. Why wouldn't it stop? You just wanted to curl up with Nora and Nate, with Shaun and Codsworth to complete the family dynamic you'd jammed yourself into. Or you wanted to die. Anything to make it stop. 

 Sometimes, relief came at more of a price than simple agony. Too weak to even open your eyes, practiced and rough hands would manhandle you into a device you'd never seen, but quickly learned to hate. It felt pleasantly cushioned, and you'd been lain upright inside, before a soft hiss followed by a mechanical click told you that you'd been shut inside. You'd barely had the time to worry about what was coming before it came, a sudden chill, and suddenly the air felt too thin to breathe. Gasping took almost all the energy you had left, and you'd registered the feeling of muscles stiffening with the same cold that sapped at your dwindling strength. 

 You'd blacked out shortly after. 

 Waking up after those little visits was, in its own special way, horrific. Almost as though you'd been frozen alive, you'd suddenly burst into consciousness, gasping for air that was even more painful than suffocating. Each breath making your lungs feel as though they were being pierced by razors from the inside out. Shaking violently from a cold a deep far past your bones, which felt as though they'd collapse like wet tissue paper as they vibrated inside of you. 

 They could hear you, the murmurs,  even when you weren't talking, they felt dangerous-- but for some reason they felt... Familiar. Old news, just worse, a reoccurring problem that had grown worse since last time. But when was last time? Gunfire flashed behind your eyelids. A life you'd just stepped out of rearing its ugly head, as it often did. In the form of violent mental breakdowns. This was it right? That was what this was, because something had happened, and that's why you were still asleep. 

You needed to wake up, something wet was tickling at your fingers. The whispers were whispers once more, good god why wouldn't they just. Shut. UP?!

 

 Now, of course, saying was always easier than doing. 'N' boy was that hard. You were almost sure as shit you were either dying, or as close as you possibly could be to it. You definitely weren't dead, 'cuz you were in way too much pain to be anything but alive right now. 

 Your eyes shot open easily enough, but it took a little longer than that to actually see anything. Like your eyes were lenses, covered in layers upon layers of grime, rendering your view translucent at best. Whatever you could make out was spinning like a top, and so obnoxiously bright it probably would have been less intrusive to your retinas if a laser was burrowing into your eye sockets instead. It felt like everything but you was moving, like a small boat caught in a nasty storm out at sea. The only reason you could even determine that this wasn't actually the case being your body having very solid contact with... Something? And that something wasn't moving. At all. You absent-mindedly pushed at the cool surface with your fingers, finding no give at all, it was solid. That, and your attention was once again directed to the scorching pain flaring up upon moment. It had been there all along, but moving hadn't helped. You felt raw, both outside and in. Only the agony inside felt.. Different, less like you were on fire, it was an aching, throbbing wreck. Internal spasms of awful pain. Whatever wasn't hurting, felt a nasty sort of numb, the kind were you felt pin pricks and an insatiable tingling that shot right through your bones. 

 You tried to curse, but found that your throat was having no part of it. The mere attempt at making your vocal chords vibrate to make sound come out of your face was like rubbing sandpaper against your own insides. Then rubbing salt into the result for good measure, sucking the moisture from your living flesh. 

 You remained it that position for a long time. The pain never really subsided, you just grew a bit more accustomed to it, enough to flop over into your back, pushing yourself up with arms that felt like twigs. It was then that you realized that the hard thing that you had been laying on was actually the floor. Though as you continued to peel yourself from it, it became increasingly apparent that the heavy weight of gravity was intent in keeping you plastered to it. 

 By the time you'd settled yourself unsteadily onto your brittle legs, sweat was dripping down your face in torrents. Like you were standing under a shower head in full blast, only not refreshing at all, and more smelly, and sticky.

 It was dark here, that much you could tell,and quiet. Deadly quiet. So much so that you heartbeat was probably fully audible to anything nearby. Though there was nothing, and as your vision cleared, you noticed that even in the gloom, your eyes somehow pierced through it. Easily too. You shook you head, regretting it as a wave of nausea and dizziness swept over you. Right, that wasn't the brightest idea. Moving fast right now was bad--duly noted. Ugh, you just wanted to sleep, but you knew you couldn't. 

 You had to find your family. 

 Groggily, you slowly made your way through the small facility. Disorientation led you to wander in circles, but after you recognized the entrance, you... Well not _easily_ , but you regained your bearings. 

 Though, the skeletons lying strewn about the terminal was quite a shock. 

 For a moment, you didn't even register the sight. Though the dusty glare of the white lab coat caught your eye. Turning, only to blanch at the sight of the literal pile of bones--just sitting there. The stench of decay long since faded away. The sight of death wasn't new, but was certainly unexpected,and with it, brought a few unhappier memories to the surface. Though, thankfully, your poor brain was much too overwhelmed with confusion to latch onto it.

 How fucking long had you been on that damn floor?! 

Surely not long enough for that--man? Woman? Body to have fucking rotted away. Heck you'd be just as dead if you had-- you hadn't been hooked up to anything close to an IV or life support machine! Suddenly, you had the nagging suspicion that perhaps, that poor sap wasn't the only skeleton hiding about. You highly doubted those Vault-Tec bastards would have just left it out there like some sort of macabre halloween trinket. 

 The blood in your veins froze. A chill slowly crawling up your spine. 

 What if _everyone_ was dead? 

 This thought thought was more than enough to spur your protesting body unto action. Sheer panic forcing you to hobble your way as fast as you could hobble to that last place you'd seen your family. Back at those... Capsule things. The things that you'd figured out too late probably didn't do what the fucking brochure advertised. Hell, you remembered being sprayed by--uhh, stuff. Or was it soap--yes, yes it was soap. You remembered the medics explaining it to you in fractured pieces as they had worked. Mostly to keep you calm, though you'd had no need for it. You knew you had been in good hands, but you'd stored the information away whenever they offered it. Just in case. You never know what would happen out there, on the battlefield, where anything could fuck you up in more ways than a damn prostitute. Sometimes knowledge was the best weapon you could ever have on your side. Mild soap, and water, neutral on the pH scale, to emulsify and dissolve contamination, all the while directing contaminated waste water away from patient, rather than over the rest of the body. You remembered it, so why had you gone alone with that tomfuckery?! 

 Your body felt ready to explode by the time you clumsily staggered to a halt before the small room of capsules. Every single capillary within your body feeling too thick, too full, as though there was simply too much blood in your body. Though it felt more as though what blood you had was too thick. Everything hurt. As if your blood was coagulating in your still living body. You felt ill. So beyond ill. But you pressed on, almost crawling along whatever surface you could cling to, to peer into the small glass panes. 

 Holy shit. 

 Everyone, everyone inside at least. Were completely unchanged. Unlike the skeletons littering the facility. They showed no hint of age or trauma at all. 

 Only, they were all... Frozen.

 Beside each capsule, stood a small control panel. That, upon closer inspection, held details such as the 'subjects' basic information, release hatches, and their occupants status's. 

 Many, it seemed, were just as dead as the skeletons. 

 You reached Nate's capsule first. Daring to hope--maybe, maybe it wasn't everyone that died? Maybe just a few were alright? Right? Surely not every of the stupid machines had, you don't know, malfunctioned or something? Then your eyes met his. 

 He was frozen. Just like everyone else. Though his face was encapsulated in an expression of... Something you'd witnessed too many times. The look of a person who's like had been cut short. Though, the coat of crimson staining his body, frozen like a preserved piece of a macabre museum, Nate. He didn't die like the rest. The spark of hope crumpled in your chest, just like ice, shattering like glass against the ground. 

 A sound, a sound you didn't know you were capable of producing, escaped your lips. With a force that your quivering lungs barely had the strength to push out. A haunting, agonized wail. The mourning of a friend. Family. A person who'd had your back during those long years at service. 

 You remained in that state for... An immeasurable amount of time. 

 Then you heard a sound. 

 Quiet, at first. Though it was enough. And it only grew stronger, enough for you to wrench your body free from its place, weeping against Nate's frozen tomb. Eyes, blurred and stinging from tears, meeting those of someone directly sealed across from your fallen friend. A very, very familiar someone. An alive someone. 

 A spark of hope flickered back to life, growing like burning embers catching alight as you moved to action once more. 

 "N-Nora?!" you shrieked, the sound lost as you lunged for her. Collapsing to the ground in your haste, though skittering across the floor in a desperate hurry to reach its control panel. Practically ripping the door latch level out of its socket as you pulled it. Stepping forwards as the door opened with a loud hiss, Nora spilling out, flesh blue from cold. 

 You caught her just before she met the ground, trying to embrace her as gently as you could. Though failing miserably, clutching her like a lifeline, calming as her shivering slowly ebbed as she thawed. Breaths steadying as she sapped your body heat, the chill offering a numbing comfort to your aching body. After a few minutes, she stiffly returned the embrace, and you heard her groan as her joints creaked in protest against the movement. Her grip was so weak, but it was there. You both sagged into one another. 

 "W-what--w-who are yo-you?" she stammered out when she was able,and you stiffened for a moment. Letting out an uneasy chuckle. "C'mon Nora, t-that isn't funny y'know, quit making weird jokes, n-not now..." you managed, trembling as she gently drew back. Though you clung on for a few moments longer, reluctant to let her go. For fear that if you did, she'd be gone, just like everyone else. 

 Thankfully, she didn't. Though, that unhealthy pallor sheen to her face hadn't ebbed, despite her steadily thawing. It was concerning. 

 Her eyes grew as wide as gold balls. Not quite the reaction you were expecting. "M... Maria? What the--hell happened?" she whispered, voice shaking and cracking at several points. Okay, that horrified look really wasn't a good thing was it? You knew a good thing when you saw it and that was not it. Though then she glanced behind you, and her already ashen face became even whiter. A feat you didn't think possible. 

 "Oh, oh--Dear--Nate... What--" she cut off. Eyes glinting with a dark sense of recollection. Eyes swiveling back to you, an expression of deep urgency written on her face, "they--the people that-that killed--they took Shaun!" she hissed. "The man--he had, a-a scar, right across his face" she added, much more strongly, fury dripping from her venomous tone. Though her eyes betrayed her hysteria, and she made to stand, though a look of fierce suffering overtook her already strained features. Her legs folded underneath her, and she crumpled to the ground, face a picture of anguish. 

 Oh no. 

 You saw the signs as her eyes quickly began to fluctuate, focusing and unfocusing. You rushed to her side, rolling her onto her side, resting your hand under her cheek, the woman beneath you swiftly becoming visibly disoriented. 

 Shortly after, as you desperately searched for a way to help, she lost control of her... Well, she urinated. Unintentionally, obviously. Though you couldn't find it in you to give two shits, as the liquid pooled around and seeped into your clothing. She groaned in discomfort, mumbling unintelligible sentences as you tried to remain calm. Though you couldn't. Your breathing became erratic, losing yourself to panic, which only worsened as hers followed suit. A deathly gurgling sound becoming audible from her chest. You were panicking. Because you'd seen this before. 

Organ failure. 

Nora was dying right in front of you. 

 You didn't know what to do.  

Oh god! What do you do?! You couldn't just sit there! Think, dammit! 

 Fat, glistening tears dripped down your face, splashing against Nora's face, as her figure began squirming in your grip, writhing restlessly. Suffering. 

 All you could do was emit shaking, choking sobs, as you watched your friend die. Eyes bloodshot with her last moments of life, so full of torturous pain, becoming dull as her body became slack. 

 This time, hope didn't come back. 

________

 Well. Isn't that just a bitch? This was your first thought, as you surveyed the surface. 

 You'd done much rooting around after... That. Resigning yourself to leaving the tomb behind you. You had a new goal. After all. 

 You had a scar-faced dude to give a nice, hearty pavement facial after all. Along with giving him a few more, open pores. Very, much more bloody, stab-wound shaped pores. To his fucking face. And everything else. Death, death is what you meant. You were gonna kill the shit out of that asshole, along with every Vault-Tec bastard you could find. 

 That, and find Shaun. 

 With unforgivable precision, you scoured the entire facility top to bottom. Picking up whatever food and medicine you could get your hands on (which wasn't much), as well as swiping a couple of menacing looking surgical tools for good measure. 

 Unfortunately, there were no other pickings worth taking, aside from the wedding rings of both Nate and Nora. Which now resided on each of your own ring fingers, as well as a Pip-Boy 3000 Mark IV, which had been on a corpse by the security terminal. The screen was coated in a thick layer of grime and dust, but with a quick scrubbing against the fabric of your suit, it looked just as clean as it had started out in life. If a little battered. 

 Speaking of the terminals, it had taken a quick rooting around in one to access the exit. A working terminal holding the door tightly sealed, though that was fixed with a little messing around with some questionably obtained hacking skills. It wasn't long before the overseers terminal had unlocked the door for you, only, during the little time it took to do so, you'd decided to poke around in the overseers logs. Hoping to find a record of what the holy hell went wrong. Finding that the long and short of the whole shit storm had, had something to do with the loon in charge refusing to let everyone out. Sparking some sort of mutiny, though whether or not it actually did much is anyone's guess. Though, the corpses littering the facility didn't exactly paint a very successful looking picture. 

 Beyond done with the whole place, you'd figured, surely the surface must be worlds better by default. Right? No, not right at all. 

The nuclear devastation was clear from the get-go. The once fairly healthy flowering overgrowth surrounding your former home, had been reduced to nothing more than a dying wasteland of murky brown weeds and cracking earth. Trees scorched bare, reaching up to the dull too-yellow sky like burning bodies reaching up from hell. It was lifeless, the whole scene, and looking out from the ledge out to your former neighborhood... It didn't show much change really. 

 From what you could see, whatever was left of the buildings were skeletal in nature, some structures remaining partially intact. Part of you didn't even want to set foot back there, but you knew you had to. It was the only place to go right now, besides. All that time spent in the military had taught you many things, and hopefully, those goodies you'd left back in that special stash of yours hadn't been blown to smithereens along with the rest of the world. 

 At least you wouldn't be going hungry for a while. Though the thought of living off canned spam for the rest of your damn life was the most appealing thought. 

 Then again, it was better than starving and dying a horrible death. You'd take it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That probably wasn't a very happy thing to wake up to was it? Nevertheless, Maria is now on one heck of a mission-- though at least now we know what that extra cryo-pod was for.  
> Thanks for reading, and I do hope you enjoyed it! Please leave a comment or a kudos if you enjoyed, and I'll see you next time~


	3. It's Over Now

The place that had served as your home didn't look any better the closer you got. In fact, it looked worse. Quite the achievement, really. Considering it wasn't exactly a pretty sight to begin with.

   You'd raided the military caravans that sat, still, untouched just outside the entrance to Vault 111. For the most part, it was a wasted trip. Though you did find something--though it wasn't anything you recognized. Like some sort of weird needle, only with a pressure valve at its tip. Filled with an unknown liquid. 

 You thought of tossing it, but you found yourself stuffing it into your bag anyway. All your time fighting that needless war had taught you a few things. Even scrap could prove useful--besides, maybe if you could figure out what was in that thing, it could prove worth something. That, or it really would be useless. Either way it was probably best to take it now instead of not taking it only to regret it and die a horrible preventable death later on. 

 After bravely pillaging the relics of the immediate area nearby the vault. It had been time to go straight home and pray to shit that _your_ shit was still at home. Also intact--that too, cuz, y'know, total atomic destruction could have a pretty adverse effect on, well, everything. 

 It was surprisingly underwhelming to stand in front of the place you'd lived under for--well you couldn't remember. Not like it even mattered anymore. There was barely anything left of the place, just a broken down shell, peeling paint and caved in roof. 

 You sighed, heavily. Simply standing there at your own doorstep, staring at nothing in particular. Half of you was wondering where to even begin--mind whirring with an endless plethora of possibilities and unlikely scenarios. How to make the best of your skills in staying outta the ground. Even though now, even if you did die, there wasn't exactly anyone left to bury you. Then, there was the other half of your brain. Which was more preoccupied with how the fuck you were gonna get what was left pf that fucking roof off of that big fat mess. The big fat mess that was, coincidentally lying right on top of your stash of junk that could very well keep you alive for a few more hours.

 It was probably a pretty good thing that you'd never quite got the hang of playing by the rules. Even after joining with those dweebs of the military--both the best and worst decision you'd ever made. Those dorks had always been such an odd crowd, Nate included, some very obvious teachers pets with hero complexes--others "rebellious" gangsta like doofs that still followed orders to a T, disciplined even behind an angst-y mask. The upper ranked seniors that you'd learned to both greatly respect and hate with a passion all at the same time. Others remaining strictly in the latter. 

 Your shoulders drooped, visually deflating. An impressive feat considering you weren't exactly all that puffed up to begin with. All of those dorks were dead now. If they hadn't been already. 

Jeez, everything hurt. If you didn't know any better, you'd just take the day off and sleep until you felt better. Only, your couldn't do that. Tomorrow, you'd just be more tired, more hungry, more weak. Less capable of getting your shit together while you had half the chance. No, rest right now wasn't even close to an option. 

 Not while you had shit to do. 

 "Oh, good evening Ma'am! To what do we owe the pleasure of this--visit?" 

 What? 

 "... N-not Ma'am? Sir? I-I'm afraid that, if it's Miss Maria you are looking for, she's been away for a while. If you'd like, I'd be happy to relay a message upon her return?"

 No fucking way. 

You almost broke your own ankle with how fast you spun around. In fact you actually felt the joint twinge in protest like some sort of warning--head spinning as your brain caught up with the rest of your head. 

"... Codsworth?"

 The robot himself looked almost unchanged. A little rusty and scratched here and there, but all in all he looked great. Which didn't surprise you as much as the fact that he was still operational had, he always had been a clean freak. As long as he had a single movable tentacle, he'd have used it to keep whatever was in reach clean and tidy. You had no doubt that if he'd have been grounded, and you'd have found him after months of neglect, he'd be found sitting in a pristine circle, surrounded by a unreachable layer of grime. Furiously trying to stretch _just_ a couple of inches more. 

 You noticed the flustered--well not face, but more like body language. He looked relatively frazzled even before you'd addressed him, so if you hadn't noticed it before, there was no way you'd not be able to notice now. The snail-like eye stalks on his spherical head each twitching back and forth, moving individually, which was an expression in of itself. If he'd had a mouth, you had no doubt his jaw would've been hitting the floor. Or something much like it anyway. Well, maybe not something quite that dramatic but at the very least mild confusion. You decided to go with the former mental image. It was funnier. 

 What was definitely without dispute, was that he very evidently didn't really know how to respond. It was actually kinda insulting that two people you'd spent the past few years of your life bothering daily didn't recognize you for some reason. Oh yeah, what was the deal with that anyway? Sure you probably didn't look too hot right now but surely it couldn't be that bad. Hell you'd almost forgotten the thing about Nora not recognizing you for a while there. You'd kinda written it off as her just being disorientated or something, plus, you'd also been pretty preoccupied with the woman literally dying in your arms. 

 He didn't respond. It was very obvious he was trying to, but that robotic brain of his was struggling to find the words. So, you granted him a small mercy, because you're were such a good person like that.

 "Yknow, for a robot, you have a really bad memory there buddy, how could you forget me? After all of the good times we've had too-- is this about me splooshing you with juice? I _said_ I was sorry" you practically whined. Folding your arms across your chest in a childish sulk, mouth forming a pout that probably made you resemble a fish after making out with a swarm of bees. 

 Again, he didn't speak. In fact, he didn't speak for a while, just stared. Silently judging you. In fact it was beginning to get really uncomfortable. Like Jesus-- you mechanical butthead just say something already! Use your big-boy words and stop leaving you hanging there like a wet lettuce. 

 "Miss Daniels?" Codsworth asked tentatively, hovering just a teensy bit closer. Peering harder at your face, as though he couldn't believe his own eyeballs, which was impressive cuz he had three of em, and if they were all wrong that'd be a pretty big accomplishment. 

 You tried so hard not to scoff. You failed. "Took ya long enough, I was starting to think the bombs hit ya too hard, you're looking good though--all things considered", you managed a chuckle. The air caught in your throat though, and you gruffly cleared your throat, rubbing an... Oddly scratchy hand across the back of your sweat-drenched neck. "Wish I could say the same about the rest of this place. Looks like microwaved shit, I don't even know where to start here". 

Now that you'd been identified, there was an almost inevitable direction for this whole conversation to go. And you wanted no part of it. Please don't ask about Nate and Nora **_please_** don't ask about--

 "Y-I'm pleased to see you looking so... Well", you chose to ignore that little pause in his voice. It was actually pretty touching to hear the emotion in the floating octopuses voice, he sounded overjoyed, probably happy to find that you were still kicking. And probably assuming that his family had been as lucky too. "I don't suppose Mum and company are accompanying you? Only it's just they have yet to return, and it doesn't look as though they are with you" he pried. You frowned, mouth twisting as you gnawed on the inside of your lips. 

Well, you liked to make bluntness a policy. Saved misunderstandings in the long run. Maybe not the most tactful plan right here, but you didn't have a single clue what else to do here. So, you just blurted the first words that came into your brain. 

 "Nate, and Nora, they died" 

 The robot seemed taken aback to say the least. Not a reaction that you hadn't expected of course. But you'd be lying if you didn't admit that the guys next words didn't worry you a little. 

 "Miss these things you're saying... These terrible things... I... -I believe you are in need of a distraction. Yes! A distraction, to calm this dire mood" there was a firm feeling of denial in his voice. Hidden just beneath a layer of forced cheer. The tentacles hanging under the bulk of his main body--which rested in an almost butler-like posture. The grasping claw adorned to his hand positioned much like a man resting his arm across his waist, a very formal looking sort of stance. His fingers, however, twitched and drummed anxiously. 

 He pointedly ignored your own pointed expression. "It's been ages since we've had a proper family activity. Checkers? Or perhaps charades? Oh shaun does so love that game. Is... The lad... With you?" he tried, the hope in his voice was... Sad. It seemed like he almost believed what he was telling himself--that you were wrong. And if he believed it hard enough, it really would be, and you'd laugh, shake your head-- say 'Gotcha ya big metal dork! We're all fine!', and everyone would burst from their hiding places and you'd all spend the evening playing family games and snacking on whatever food hadn't been destroyed by the bombs. 

"Nora, she said someone took him" 

 He remained unfazed. Not even hesitating to respond in an upbeat manner, almost teasing. "It's worse than I thought. Hmm, hmmm. You're suffering from... Hunger-induced paranoia"

 You wanted so badly for his hopes to have been real. 

"not eating properly for nearly 200 years will do that, I'm afraid."

 That's when you froze, midway from bringing up your hand to give the poor mechanical guy a well deserved pat. Now you were almost certain there was something not right about the guy. Maybe something had been knocked loose during the whole 'world being completely destroyed' fiasco? Or something? Sure you'd been down there for a while maybe, cuz of the skeletons and all, but--you'd definitely have starved to death or something after that long. Heck the others dies and they'd been all frozen solid with life supporting shit to keep em going-- even if it hadn't worked in the end. But you'd been just lying there on the ground, you weren't really sure how that had happened in reality either. Maybe you'd unfrozen somehow and just collapsed there in the empty building and just didn't remember due to shock or whatever? Gahh! There was obviously some perfectly good reason behind it, but that long _must_ be a stretch. 

 "What?" you blanched, the words coming out as a very shaky whisper. 

"a bit over 210 actually miss. Give or take a little due to the earth's rotation and some minor dings to the ole' chronometer". 

 Well at least one of you seemed to be completely okay with this information. Then again if it had really been as long as this guy was saying it had been then he's had much fucking longer than you had to come to terms with this development. 

"that means you're two centuries late for dinner! Ha ha ha" he continued, as if oblivious to you trying very hard to not fall-flat-on-your-face-unconscious. "Perhaps I can whip you up a snack? You must be famished".

 You shot him a dirty look by way of response, as you leaned forwards. Hands using your knees to support yourself as you hunched over, sucking in deep, calming breaths that weren't really helping, but were at least stopping you from flat out hyperventilating.

 You took a few more minutes to calm yourself. You spoke before you had actually felt able to breathe without feeling as though your ribs were constricting your lungs. But you couldn't ignore the issue any longer, not if you wanted to make any progress, "Codsworth? Are you... Alright? You're acting kinda...". 

Damn. How do you say 'bat shit insane' politely? 

"delusional." you ended up finishing. Very lamely too. 

Nice save. 

It apparently worked though. Maybe all Codsworth had needed was a direct confrontation, to snap him outta it.

 He seemed to stew in the silence that followed for a moment. His usually lanky, fluid limbs becoming stiff, his posture unusually rigid, and he quietly stammered, "I... I...". 

Before he exploded. 

"oh miss its just been horrible! Two centuries with no one to talk to, no one to serve!" he lamented pitifully. It was strange, since had he been human, you'd have expected his outburst to be accompanied by powerful gestures. He wasn't a human though, so he didn't do much more than bob up and down in the air a little more animatedly than usual. It was more noticeable, which in itself was pretty drastic behavior for the bot. Everything about the way he went about life was... How do you put it? Graceful, kinda like he wanted to be as unobtrusive as he could possibly be. A 'don't notice me doing stuff' kind of way of moving, he moved like liquid, confidently, not a single twitch wasted. So this was a pretty uncharacteristic display for him. 

 "I spent the first ten years trying to keep the floors waxed. But nothing gets nuclear fallout out of vinyl wood, nothing!" he explained, or rather reminisced. Apparently happy to vent his frustrations without expecting any input on your part. "And don't get me started on the futility of dusting a collapsed house". 

His ranting would almost have been considered comical, under different circumstances. "And the car! The car! How do you polish, rust?!" he finished in an infuriated scream, voice cracking like a pre-pubescent child, which had nothing to do with his audio malfunctioning. In all your years of your time with him and his--your family, you'd never once seen him lose his composure. Not like this. 

 You didn't know how to reply to that. That being said, you still tried, and Codsworth seemed to appreciate the effort at least. "It must've been real shitty to have been left behind buddy. I'm sorry we didn't bring you, but for the record, I'm glad you're okay" you paused. Looking him up and down. "Well maybe not okay but--you're as much part of the family as all of us pal, you should never have been left behind". 

 It was true. He was part of the family. Hell, he was all that was left, besides Shaun. And he could be fucking anywhere--or long dead.

 He was programmed to serve his, saying owners felt wrong, but his family. So not being able to fulfill that basic instruction, it must've been unbearable for the sorry bot. Not only that, but he'd had to do it all alone. Watching the world slowly erode and crumble into decay around him. 

By comparison, you'd had it considerably easier. 

_______

 You'd both taken most of the day to calm down. Talking over the events together once Codsworth could rationally accept that... They weren't coming home. Surprisingly, he'd made it a firm point to assure you he harbored no resentment about being left in the rush. Even if he hadn't exactly enjoyed being left in the first place. 

 You'd tried to explain your own side of things as best as you were able. Only you didn't exactly remember much of anything. In fact, you weren't exactly sure you wanted to either. 

You had vague memories of... Pain. Unimaginable pain. And cold. You didn't want to know what else went with those small fragments of whatever had happened in there. You didn't even want to step foot back in there--but you would. You needed to give those two a proper burial after all. That would have to wait a while though, as much as you hated the thought of leaving them there to rot. But you couldn't afford to waste time and energy on that, not if you planned on not joining em. 

 You'd mentioned this to Codsworth once you two had settled. He'd easily agreed, despite the unsure tome in his voice. Only before you could say much further on the matter, the robot had sprung into action. In his element now that he had something to put his energy into--and so, that's how you had ended up here. 

 In town, just a stones throw away from the broken neighborhood where you'd left Codsworth to gather up supplies, and try and shift some rubble away from the wreck you called home one upon a time. 

 You'd decided to stay put there for a while, but since your home was now in ruins, you'd requested Codsworth's permission to stay at Nora's house for a while. He'd seemed pretty surprised at you looking to him for that answer, but he'd readily accepted you into the home. Scoffing as if he'd actually needed to say so, but you'd wanted confirmation nonetheless. It felt good, you weren't as alone as you'd first thought. 

 Knowing there was at least someone you gave half a crap about was still there. Still safe, it made you feel warm. It was a heavy relief. 

 Before you'd left. Codsworth had warned you about the new changes that the fallout had brought with it. According to him, there were, in fact, still people within the world, very much alive people. But if anything Codsworth had to say about them was an indication, they weren't always very friendly. In fact, apparently, the new world had very much hardened whoever was left, and those hardened people were armed. To the teeth. And that didn't even include the little detail of mutant. Fucking. Animal-monsters, roaming the wasteland. 

 A detail that Codsworth had conveniently forgotten to mention until a giant fucking roach had literally flew straight at your face. You'd been seconds away from death in the form of a flying ball of buggy glory before your robot companion had happily disposed of the 'wretched creature' with the help of the welding tool attachment on one of his tentacles. 

 So, needless to say, you were on edge. You'd borrowed Nate's handgun you knew he'd kept in his closet, and taken all the ammo you could find along with it. That, and a small hunting knife he'd kept in an old drawer under his underwear. You only knew that it was there because you remembered Nora complaining about the dangerous pointy thing with a baby in the house. It was almost lucky he'd neglected to toss it away. 

 You were a nervous wreck walking around out there even with both of em-- and you were plenty capable of suckering a person with your hands. Maybe it was just the idea of radiation-mutated abominations like that giant roach scuttling around that bothered you so much. It was a lot creepier than the idea of dealing with gunned up assholes. At least they were a familiar adversary. 

 You sighed as you passed the red rocket diner. Kicking at a loose piece of cement as you wandered towards town, hoping to scout out the area for anything worth taking the next time you visited. Mostly though, you wanted to get a better feeling for the new environment. This whole world now, was a battleground, and you needed to adapt to that idea very quickly. 

 You cursed when your swinging foot missed the lump. 

 You did realize pretty quickly how easily you delved back into old habits. Instinctively keeping low to the ground, walking in a hunched over kind of stance. Walking with an unpredictable sway, your mind convincing itself pf the nonexistent target painted on your back. And you made it a point to move oddly, to stall and rush periodically, to sway the eyes looking down that scope, burning a hole through7the back of your neck. 

 The ground was uneven under your feet as you walked. Dry, straw like strands of dead or close to it grass brushed against your knees as you made your way across the area, pushing up through the cracked earth. Stumbling a few times when a particularly tough knot caught at your feet. You might've been imagining it, but that sun was almost brighter than it had been when you'd emerged from that underground tomb. The harsh glare invading your eyeballs almost as obnoxiously as if it was actually pushing itself into your eye sockets. 

The dry air burned in your lungs. 

 It was strange, it felt stranger, to stalk through the old town as you had during your times fighting that pointless war. Back grazing against the rough brick as you peered around each corner, ears straining to hear past the gravel grinding under your feet. Heck, it almost felt like you'd never even left that shits-show. It felt like if you concentrated hard enough, you could even almost hear the gunfire, which had long, long since died. 

... Wait. 

That wasn't your imagination. 

 You blinked, dazedly. Suddenly feeling slightly off balanced. Wobbly staggering to lean against the closest surface you could get too. Though in reality you really simply fell against it, paying no mind to your skull smacking against the hard... Things side. You thought it was a car. Maybe. You couldn't really focus much on anything but the noise. The noise--it was so--close. Almost as if it was literally a footstep away. How had you not noticed that again? Had you been thinking? Maybe focusing on something else? 

... What had you been doing? Why were you here again? 

 The sound of real gunfire was a lot different than how the movies portrayed it. It was louder, the sound so sharp, especially in the open space. It didn't echo, not like fireworks did, popping and cracking, but deafening to the ears. It was almost maddening, to be surrounded by that sound. The overlapping fire made it very difficult to orient yourself. 

 It was maddening. 

It was overwhelming. 

 You didn't really know how it happened, but you somehow managed to push yourself up from your place heaving against a long forgotten car. It was rusted, whatever paint was left was worn and faded, covered in a thick layer of grime. Your skin scraped against it harshly, but you didn't care as much as you might have. 

 Instead, you focused on getting closer to the sound. 

 It didn't take long, or it might have. You had no way of knowing, but you managed to hobble your way to the end of the street. You felt drunk, and you probably looked it too. Blearily glancing around from that point, following that familiar sound. 

 There was movement. A lot of it. 

 Almost as if you'd stepped into another world. A handful of people were strewn across the street out in front of the old museum, all crouching below some form of cover. Yelling back and forth, but judging on the uproar of laughter between them all, they weren't feeling any sort of discomfort about their position. There were a few men, as well as women, covered in patchworks of armour that seemed to be fashioned out of scraps of metal and leather. Each of them were armed with small handguns. 

 Seeing the source of the noise right in front of you did little to help lift the fog from your mind. You weren't stupid though, you wasted no fucking time in ducking for cover back behind the building. Just in time too, because just as your head whipped around the corner, a burst of blinding red light blasted a chunk right outta the brick. Right where your head had just been seconds before, but nobody you'd seen had even so much as glanced in your direction. So, for the first time since you'd gotten there, you asked yourself a very important question. A simple one really. Who, or what were they shooting at? Cuz something was definitely firing back. 

 Hmmm, this was bad. These guys were pretty close to home, and who knew which party of these guys were in the right in whatever was going on. Or even if either of them were safe, it wasn't safe to just leave this unchecked. Not with the possibility of them sneaking up behind you, because it wasn't a very hard concept to think the winners of that brawl might end up on your doorstep. By accident or otherwise. 

 You knew you didn't have much ammunition, but you knew that you could manage with dealing with q group that size. But the thought practically executing both groups wasn't very appealing. Maybe you should wait for a bit and hope you hear or see something that shows if either of em are not assholes? Maybe sh--

 "Hey--hey hey hey! One of 'em got behind us!" someone hollered, and you weren't ashamed to admit you shit a brick as you scrambled in retreat. Launching yourself over that old abandoned car and flattening your back against it, as a hail of bullets began firing in your general direction. 

 You swore, hissing as you tore Nate's handgun from its place stuffed down the waistline of a tattered old pair of cameos you'd pulled on over your vault suit. The magazine was already loaded, with a spare clip shoved inside your pocket. You had a few extra bullets stuffed loosely in with it, and you checked the guns safety was off before pulling back the hammer. Clutching the thing in a steady hand. 

 You let them continue firing for a few seconds longer. Singling out a shooter and trying to count how many round they could fire, but it was lost in the swarm. You had a rough estimate, but that was about it, but it was all you had. So you waited, counting off each and every bullet that fired above your head. 

 Then made a mad dash for it. Luckily most of your attackers had thankfully stopped to reload, as you'd hoped. You almost laughed as you heard a couple pf them bark out in complaint as you dashed around the corner, darting around the building to try and get behind them. You briefly took note of a figure perched up high on the museums balcony, and you fired a few times at the asshole on ground. Trying to get their attention, as well as taking out two of the frontal assaulters down. Apparently not expecting attack from such a low angle. 

 Immediately, the figure swerved to aim at you, but you continued aiming down the street, back from them, but head glancing up to give the figure a warning glance. 

"Don't you dare shoot at me again you hat-wearing assfuck!" you took the opportunity to yell, before continuing your attack. You managed to down a few more before they actually began to take notice, re-positioning themselves to avoid your fire as well. Unlike them though, you weren't wasting bullets shooting at thin air. No, you couldn't afford to keep their heads under, instead waited for them to pop out as they took aim. A few well placed bullets piercing the very tops of their skulls as they tried to put you on ice. 

 You had a clip of twenty four left before you decided that you could no longer get at the remaining attackers from the front. Not that you hadn't been moving around, heck, staying still was a tactic that'd get ya killed. The guy up top behind you had thankfully not shot at you yet, or if they had you hadn't noticed yet. Unlikely since you'd been careful to keep a watchful eye on that guy. Who you were starting to decide was probably male if those broad shoulders where anything to go by. He was a decent shot too actually, but he was shooting at a pack of rats, his targets pin pricks that were obviously overwhelming to him. Since he was greatly outnumbered, and all that heat was focused solely on him. At least, it had been. 

 Now, you'd both whittled the pack down to a grand total of two. Both of whom eventually decided that their pride wasn't worth their lives, and so, they bolted. Just like that, screaming at one another as they pegged it right down the street. 

 Well. You weren't going to let them get away, they were too dangerous for that. Calmly, you rose your weapon once more, eyeing down its barrel, staring down at the retreating woman's spine. 

 You fired. And so did the sniper guy above you, almost in unison. Both targets collapsed in a crumpled heap to the floor. The force of the fire knocking them both forwards, and they went down like rag-dolls, lying limp at the end of the street. 

The sight of them. The deafening silence that followed. Was more than just a little sobering. 

You should've just taken that nap after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At least there's some good news for our poor Maria, but whoever could this strange sniper-person be? Any guesses? Too bad Maria was so out of it during that firefight, but maybe next time she'll get a little more... Creative~?  
> Well, thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed. Maybe if you enjoyed reading, why not leave a comment, or even a kudos?  
> Till next time~


	4. Up And Atom

This was a dumb idea. A really really fucking stupid-ass dumb idea and really you didn't know why you were going along with it. No matter how you worded it, what part of 'fighting a literal death match in a collapsed building ready to collapse on your heads' sounded like a good plan? To anyone. Death doesn't discriminate-- death by being pancaked by rubble was just as applicable to those w-what had that dude called em again? Raiders? Yes raiders, as it was to you. 

 Stupid murdery people being all kill-y. Stupid you for not just waiting for them and shaking them in the necks on their way out. 

 You'd been very quick to pat down all of the fallen for anything reasonably useful their corpse's could provide. Thankfully, their shitty guns, while using shells that were useless for your 9mm, were in perfectly goof condition. And since they all apparently favored the same type of weapon for some reason, the ammunition was in much greater supply. So. You were pretty much a one woman army right now. Heck you had more firepower than you even needed for these sorry smucks-- they were much more combat-proficient than your average Joe, but they certainly weren't no bulked up soldiers either. They weren't child's play, but in comparison, they weren't all that off from it. 

 The little firefight a few minutes ago had been... Blurry at best. You had barely been coherent for most of it, all of that had been pure instinct, nothing more than muscle memory. You were actually kinda appalled at how rusty you'd gotten. You'd wasted bullets shooting at a whole cluster of them--they'd been huddled together next to a damn car for Christ's sake. All it would've taken was a well placed shot or two and kablamo! You were actually pretty disgusted with yourself at how much time, energy, and much needed ammo on such a cakerun attack. 

 Fortunately. For you at least, not the remainder of the raiders group (cuz they were fucked). You'd snapped out of it when you felt the barrel of the sniper smack with the cap of your skull. 

 "Hey--what the--dude!" you shouted up in protest. Shooting the nameless sniper man a filthy scowl as you brought a hand to rub at the tender bump on your cranium. "Gee, ya help a guy out and he throws a--" you paused, stooping down to swipe at the thing, examining it in your hands, before continuing as a murmur, "laser musket, huh?". You shrugged, craning your neck, using your arm to shield your eyes from the suns glare, as you yourself glared at the stranger, speaking up a bit louder "at my head". 

 The stranger seemed less than amused at your passive aggressive comment. A hand steadying himself as he leaned carefully over the edge, eyes darting from you to something behind him. He looked anxious, face contorted in a panicked looking concentration. 

 "Yeah thanks for the heartfelt apology it really made me--ARGH MY NARDS DON'T SHOOT ME" you yelped midway through your sentence. Barely tripping over yourself as you pushed yourself backwards, utilizing a sequence of sidestepping maneuvers that looked much better in your own head than in real life to avoid the spray of bullets that shot through the museum door. 

 The dust settled along with crumbs of rubble before you spoke again, and that was to make a high pitched noise towards the man above you. Mostly to let him know that yes, you were alive despite your face-down position on the pavement. Probably shouldn't have let yourself be so blasé about your own safety, but honestly you just didn't think about it. Hey, it'd been a while since you'd fought for home and country okay, you were allowed to be a little rusty. But not too rusty. Yknow, cuz if you were you'd probably die. 

 A shadow of movement from the balcony above you it what spurred you into action. You'd spotted most of the assholes shooting at you through the gap in the doors that now resembled a hedgehogs favourite pincushion. Only wit bullet holes instead of quills. The structures interior was a fucking wreck. The floor above crumbling down to meet the floor below, what hadn't already fallen through anyway. Leaving a perfect perch for most of the shooters to sit up on, waiting to get a clear shot whilst sitting comfortably behind cover. With only one man apparently preferring the lower ground. A lone wolf in a pack, so to speak. Clearly not a believer in the whole divide and conquer thing being how people died. 

 The shadow flickered again, which is when you decided it was time to make your grand entrance. With all scopes pointed in eager anticipation towards the front entrance. What fool would have expected that you'd try to get in through there? 

Luckily for you. Not them, at least, certainly not the fellah you landed on. 

 The guy seemed to put two and two together and got three as the door shattered around him. Only getting the picture of what was going on--and what was happening to him, when the butt of your new rifle made solid contact into his jawline. Using him to get your balance, you steadied yourself as you shook the splinters of wood from your hair. You weren't entirely sure how you managed that impressive feat of strength but, hey, maybe that's just how two centuries of rot and exposure effected hardwood?

 Your meat shield cursed in complaint. But you easily dragged him over to duck behind the wall. Smirking at the shower of slurred insults shot your way in place of bullets. Though you did note that the guys up top did shuffle around as you moved, meaning they weren't staying in place. Which was something you were glad to be aware of now, and not later when someone shanked you in the head with a pistol. The moving was good, as long as you took the time to manage crowd control, make sure you pay attention to who's where and who's too close. It was when people stayed put the real issues arose. Stalemate was a bitch and a half, at least when they were running around ya had something to shoot at. 

Putting him down permanently with a shot to the heart after shoving him out of your grip. He made a whimpering noise as he died, that was lost in the orchestra of combat. 

 You recognized this place. It was a museum for... Something. You thought it might have had something to do with the American Revolution or some sort of dedication to American conflicts. Never really a point of interest for you despite your whole career but, well. 

 Still, Concord had really gone to hell in the two centuries you'd been underground. 

... Yeah. Still trying to get your head around that. 

 The gateway leading to the huge ass staircase leading up was locked tight. That, you found out after making your way towards it, and even worse, people were alive on the other side. Opening fire almost as soon as they saw you moving, evidently not caring much for who they shot at before they started pulling the trigger. Flattening yourself against the underside of the arc, you shot blindly as you readied to run for the only other door. On the right side coming in from outside. You didn't know if the people sitting directly above you had moved or not, or if they were still waiting for you to run. Still, you felt like a rooster stuck in its hut, with the butcher out waiting with his shiny, sharp axe for you to stretch your neck out for the bait. Someone stopped shooting, but you didn't get to see if you'd made a kill shot. But you winced as you felt a bullet graze against the flesh at your hip, a literal flesh wound, but with how sore everything was it felt like rubbing salt into wound. After hoisting the readily available corpse over your head, you ran towards the opening. Feeling the shots bury themselves into your pathetic shield with solid, dull thuds, before dropping it altogether once you made it back to safety. 

 For about all of three seconds. Almost as soon as you made it to fresh cover, that wasn't another human being, a trio of hostiles came running to investigate. The entrance had led to a very small hallway, which in turn led to the most mother fucking disturbing room you'd ever had the displeasure of walking into. Devoid of furniture, except of course, for the faceless mannequins scattered throughout the room. Dressed up in faded military dress coats of dull reds and fizzing audio that for some reason still functioned. Kinda. Not really, time had definitely taken a toll on whatever was still spitting out that sound. Either way, it took you very much by surprise, you almost ended up shooting the things to be honest. Instead, you froze, barrel to the closest impostor you could see, dying a little inside when you realized you'd shit yourself a brick over a lifeless but no less scary prop. 

It might have been because of the toys though, combines with the fact you were standing stock still in the middle of enemy territory, that two of them actually seemed ready to run right past you, if it weren't for their lady friend who spotted you almost instantly. Her face, smeared with rust colored dirt, contorted into a comical expression of surprise. As if she either hadn't been expecting you to be alive or hadn't been clued into your presence at all by all the gunfire and stuff. 

 The two boys, who were notably defenseless, if it weren't for their tiny pocket knives that they wielded with impressive bravado, lunged for you just before they passed. Changing course and locking on target in a split second that their bodies didn't quite match with. Leaving their attack clumsily performed. 

 Their female comrade was the only one actually armed with a firearm, and therefore a much largely threat with the other two slugger buddies keeping you distracted. With much more force than necessary, you shoved your new doll friend right into the two rhino-men. Not actually impeding on their momentum, but when the thing broke right in half and fell to the floor. Both their legs seemed to get tangled in, well, the legs, and arms, and both ended up crashing to the floor in a really nasty looking heap. As in they seemed to just kind of give up on running and just leapt forwards in unison. 

Thank god they had their faces to break their fall. 

 With the two dumbells out of the way for the moment, you popped a shot off at the woman who still hadn't ducked for cover as she reloaded. You missed her head, but the casing landed squarely in her throat. With a small spurt of blood from her ruptured jugular, she dropped like a rock, dead before she even hit the floor. 

 Almost the instant her body finished its decent, something fleshy and hard collided with the back of your ribs. A shallow sting following soon after, though this time drawing a long, thin wound that wound in a semi circle around your side. The culprit revealing itself a heartbeat later, in the form of one of those manly-mini knives you'd snickered at before. The cut wasn't deep, but the contact sent you rolling anyway, which was probably the reason why the blade hadn't managed to penetrate too deep. Both of you were sent lurching forward, but you had the foresight to tuck into as much of a ball as you could before your face could slam into the floor. You heard a series of grunting as you felt your body snap in half. Though you couldn't discern if it was coming from you, or the guy who'd knocked you over. With your midsection acting, as, well, the midsection. Though because of the way you landed, your momentum didn't send you rolling further, instead sliding a few inches before stopping dead. Heels plonking to the floor as you starfished in the middle of the room. Meanwhile, the idiot who hadn't had the sense to brace himself for the landing of his own attack continued to tumble across the room, knocking over mannequins in his way like rolling pins. From your upside-down point of view, you could see the guys arm twist in a way that arms should not be twisted. 

You winced, but not at your own injuries. You felt that and you honestly didn't know why you were still looking at it, it was gross. 

 A quick series of footsteps and the dip of the floorboards directly to the left of your head was what alerted you to the oncoming danger. Automatically, you snapped your head to the side, feeling the skin of a filthy--very heavy boot scrape against your ear. The bastard. He'd tried to make mincemeat with you face, the nerve! Didn't he know it was rude to turn a ladies face into spaghetti? Thugs these days, no manners. 

 "Dude, you missed--how did you miss?" you asked incredulously, as you swung your legs upwards. Shifting your weight onto your shoulders and shoving your heels with all the force you could muster straight into his crotch. Funny, with all that scrap armour, and he hadn't thought to protect the family jewels. Or family mush as those dedicates were now anyway. 

 He fell before you'd even finished driving your feet up his pelvis. Actually launching a good solid foot from the ground from the impact. His howl resounded throughout the entire building, really it was glorious, and the smile that spread across your face said as much, you were very pleased with yourself. 

 It didn't take much longer to get through the rest of the building. Having taken ammunition from the initial fallen. You rampaged throughout the building like a one woman army. Which, you guessed was what your were. Efficient, not one movement wasted. Old habits that had been drilled into you since you could walk resurfaced, and by the time you'd downed the last opponent, it was as if you'd never left the battlefield at all. 

 The man's body dropped to the floor as if he'd been wearing lead weights. His neck lolling on the ground at an odd angle. Probably because you'd snapped it. 

 You were about to check his body for any additional ammo, when you heard... Voices, behind you. You spun around without hesitation, gun up and pointed at the only door you hadn't checked yet in the crumbling hallway. Absentmindedly stuffing the goodie you'd found in the  pocket of your pants. If you had your orientations right, that doorway should be facing the front of the building. Maybe sniper-man? Couldn't take the risk. 

 So, rather than opening the door. You kicked the damn thing in. Aiming for the handle of course, you weren't stupid. A broken leg didn't sound very enticing even on a good day. The door flew open. Only to reveal-hey presto, sniper man. In the flesh, rifle raised and pointed right between your eyes, and looking very alarmed. 

 You smirked, lowering your weapon. It took a moment, but he mirrored your action, slowly, and still not looking quite convinced that was the right thing to do. 

 "That's the second time today you've pointed that thing at me, must be a record, do I win a prize?". 

 The man was a very... Clean looking, man. At least in comparison to his group, after a quick glance around. Which wasn't a very pleasant experience, seeing nothing but tired, disgruntled and dirty faces, eyes boring into you. Heavy with distrust. They were looking at you as if you had two heads. 

 "Hold back the welcoming party, jeez, you'd think I hadn't just busted your asses out of here" you joked, trying to lighten the mood a bit. Nobody so much as smirked, but sniper-mans eyes softened slightly. "C-c'mon, I don't bite". 

 "You look like ya do" one of the women sneered, dark haired and a face full of mean. One look at her and you could tell, this woman was definitely a smiler. 

 "That's rude" sniper man scolded harshly, but the woman remained unimpressed. You snorted at that, eyeing the woman with a glint of mischief flashing in your eyes. 

 "Nah, no let Happyfeet fire her shots, it's cool" you snickered, relishing as she seemed to force air out her nose like a whistling kettle. Face going red, but you, knowing better than to aggravate her any further, simply chuckled as you raised your hands in a lazy gesture of surrender. Sniper-man simply sighed, and you admit you felt a little guilty for goading the woman now. He looked beyond tired. 

 Looking at him, you wouldn't have suspected he'd be the kind of person who could fight off a hoard of no-gooders. Nothing about him said 'fighter', if anything, looking at him. He reminded you of somebody you'd see in church helping the elderly get out of their seats. Gentleness is all that met your eyes when you looked at this man. A man with rich chocolate colored skin, he was actually quite handsome, for someone who looked like he wanted nothing more than to sleep for a week. 

 Shaking his head, he wiped a weary hand over his face, moving it up to push his hat back up his head. As it had been steadily sliding down over his forehead. Before offering the opposing hand out to you. After a moment of consideration, you took it, happy to find his grip was good and firm. Meeting you head on, rather than treating you as something made of glass. You liked him already. His hat, not so much. Why was one side just stuck up? Was it pinned? You just wanted to pull it down. 

 "Man I don't know who you are, but your timing's impeccable. Preston Garvey. Commonwealth minutemen". Huh. Preston huh, well, it was better than calling him sniper-man. He seemed more at ease now at least, holding his rifle by the stock, and no longer pointed at you. So that was a plus. 

 You weren't ashamed to admit that you snickered at that. "What? I've gone back in time? That's news to me, coulda been sure it was the opposite" you quipped, but it mostly went over Preston's head. You figured. 

 He didn't seem offended in the least. And a small smile curled the corners of his mouth. Ha! Progress. "Protect the people at a minutes notice. That was the idea, so I joined up, wanted to make a difference, and I did, but... Things fell apart. Now it looks like I'm the last minutemen standing" he explained, by the time he'd finished, that small smile had all but disappeared. 

 "Good a reason as any" you sidestepped, choosing to not comment on the groups loss. You had a feeling that your morbid sense of humour wouldn't be very appreciated at this moment of time. Not everyone shared your unique coping mechanisms. "So uh, who's with ya?". 

"Just some people looking for a new home. A fresh start. I've been with em since Quincy. Lexington looked good for a while, but the ghouls drove us outta there" he easily explained. 

 Ghouls? He did just say ghouls, right? As in the flesh-eating monster ghouls? Was this guy living in a storybook? 

"A month ago there were twenty of us. Yesterday eight. Now we're five" he swallowed thickly, voice sounding... Broken, for a moment. "It's just me, the John's-- marcy and Jun, that's old Mama Murphy on the couch, and this here's Sturges". 

 Sturges nodded in greeting. Friendly enough, at least he wasn't looking at you the way everyone else was. As if you were about ready to pounce on em. 

 "Whoahwhoah, hold up, Ghouls? Is that a euphemism for people who smell like shit or something? Cuz that's just mean". Nobody laughed, and the grin died on your face. Turning more into a grimace. 

 "He's talking about your kind, zombie freak" the dark haired lady snarled, like an overgrown high-school bitch on wheels stereotype from every school movie ever. You were starting to seriously consider ending her like one. Preston, however made a 'stop' gesture with his hand, gently, but looked personally offended on your behalf. 

 "She saved us" he scolded, and Sturges pitched in with a supportive "Yeah". She simply rolled her eyes, but settled. 

 Then he turned to face you again. Eyebrows furrowed now in concern. "You, uhh, you're kidding right?" he probed gently, and for once you let your expression go slack. Sensing the seriousness of the situation. 

 "No? Should I be?" you questioned, voice going a little too high at the end. Preston looked faint. 

 "That suit, you're a Vault dweller? How long have you been--" 

"What time is it?" you asked bluntly. 

 Preston made a confused face, but obliged, much to you amusement. "A little past noon". 

 "Ah, then about three hours". 

 His face fell further. Eyes widening considerably, his mouth moved, but no sound came out. 

 Sturges kindly stepped in, " 'N have ya seen yourself since? No lookin' in a mirror or?" he trailed off, and you shook your head. What was he getting at? Sure you probably didn't look the best right now. Having been out for two centuries and having fought through a pack of maniacs with noisemakers to boot. But surely it wasn't anything _that_ bad. 

 "Ghouls are... Irradiated people, most are just like you or me. They look pretty... Messed up, and live for a long time, but they're still just... People" he winced q bit as he tried to find the words. "The ones I'm talking about are different, the radiation rotted their brains. Made them a feral. They'd rip you apart as soon as look at you" He explained, tentatively, eyeing you with the sympathetic look that told you bad news was about to come out of his mouth. 

 You didn't like where this was going. "And, let me guess, you're saying I'm?". 

He nodded. 

 You Weren't sure how to wrap your head around that. You didn't feel any different. You hurt all over, but you figured that was normal after... Whatever had happened while you were out cold. Right? And your eyes still hadn't adjusted to the light yet, but you'd been underground for _two hundred years_. 

 He was so pulling your leg. "Pfft, okay, fun joke, but I'm definitely not one of these ghoul people. I'm human--it's as plain as the nose on my--" you'd just been in the process of smugly moving to tap your nose. For emphasis. Only, your finger found nothing but empty air. 

 Preston raised an eyebrow at that, looking sorry for you. Huh. Okay, embarrassing, so he was right. For the first time today, you actually got a good look at the skin on your hand. Finding it horrifically scarred, like the flesh had scorched, melted, and then set the way it was. 

 Well, that probably explained why everything hurt so much. But there were worse things to be, not like you ever took much notice of your good looks anyway. 

 You feigned horror, mock gasping, and clapping both hands to your cheeks. Yeah, not smooth that all, those burns were everywhere. "Oh, _nose_!". 

 Preston choked on his own breath, Sturges snorted outright. Hunching over himself to collect himself. 

 "You took the news pretty well missy" one of the men, you think he was called Jun, commented, and you rolled your shoulders. "Not like getting upset would do anything". 

 "Nah, you're right, but then again you can't see yourself" 

 "Hardy har, jokes on you pal, I look fabulous no matter how gross I look--at least this explains why Nora and Codsworth didn't recognize me" you said, mostly to yourself. "Hey at least I can expect to live a little longer, you said Ghouls have longer life expectancy's right". 

 Sturges raised an eyebrow, "Ya think?" 

 You nodded. "How much longer are we talking here? Ten years? Twenty?" 

 "Try talking about centuries here doll" he chuckled, doubling over at the look of complete shock that came over your face. 

 "You're shitting me--no you're definitely shitting me here". 

  "He's right" the woman sat on the couch--Mama Murphy is what they called her? Chimed in. She was wearing very worn down, what must have once been pastel blue colored cardigan. Along with a pair of psychedelic, dangling earrings, and a very wrinkled looking hat. Or was it a bandana? You couldn't tell. Her voice was very wavering, like she was trying to impersonate one of those phony fortune tellers that warbled as they spoke. Only quieter, and not on purpose. The rasp in her voice told you that this woman had a habit of smoking. It sounded as though her throat had seen better days too. 

 "Well, that's a lot of information to take in over one sitting. Back to business--what brought you round here?" you asked, curious to what appeal Concord could have had for the group. Directing it of course to Preston, who seemed to startle back into gear. 

"Looked safe, like a good place to hunker down a while. Walls, shelter, the raiders proves us wrong". 

 You frowned at that, idly playing with a strand of frazzled hair that had been tickling at your jaw, "But you have other places to check out, right?". 

 Preston hummed in affirmative, but then gestured towards the balcony. It was then you became aware of muffled yelling outside. "First we've gotta get past them" he said.

 You scowled, moving towards the balcony, but hesitating to stick your head outside. Instead listening there, with a hand raised to keep everyone quiet. Yeah, definitely more than the handful that had been out there a minute ago. 

 "I can help get you guys get outta here, but taking this out to the street isn't an option. They'd blow holes in us the moment we tried to step outside" you instructed, already reloading your handgun, hands steady. Even though you felt wired taut at the prospect of battle again. "No point trying to keep em out, I busted the door so they're getting in one way or another, we're better off waiting for them to come in. They'll be filtered in--can't all come in at once, easier to take down". 

 As you'd been talking, you noticed an odd look of... Excitement? Flickering across Prestons face. Then he almost seemed to shake his head, as if breaking out of a trance, before stopping you from walking out the door with a gentle hand to your shoulder. 

 You shot him a questioning look, "Actually, we might have a better idea--Sturges, wanna fill her in?". 

 He nodded, and stepped forwards from leaning back casually against a large dresser. He seemed quite enthusiastic. 

 "There's a crashed Vertibird up on the roof. Old school. You might've noticed it" he began, and you shook your head. You'd been too focused on the raiders than the building itself. Rookie mistake, since the building was in such a state of disarray, it could've come down any time with that kind of weight settled on its roof. Heh, you were still getting back into the swing of things, that was a mistake you wouldn't make again. 

 "Well it looks like one of its passengers left behind a seriously sweet goody. We're talking about a suit of cherry T-45 power armour. Military issue", now that caught your attention, and Sturges noticed. A grin curling the corner of his mouth. You liked this guy. 

  "I like this" you chuckled, and Sturges bobbed his head, still grinning. "I thought you might". 

 You turned a circle as you thought it over. "Y'know, get that suit, and rip that minigun off the Vertibird--" 

 "--and those raiders get an express ticket to hell" Sturges finished for you. Ohoho, how the tables have tabled. This sure beat waiting it out, you'd never been fond of power armour, surprising, you know. But it was so hulking, and slow, and while it came with many benefits. In it, you were a walking target, you much preferred your speed over protection. And it must've worked since you lived, and only got shot a few (dozen) times. 

 You rubbed your hands together, a determined expression fixed on your face. It was time, you thought, to go to town. Literally, and, figuratively. 

 

 About ten minutes later, and you were leaping from the museum rooftop. The sensation of weightlessness lasted seconds, before you met the ground in spectacular fashion with an almighty, earth shaking boom! The impact itself shattered the concrete under your feet, and you watched with relative amusement at the look of triumph drain from the raiders faces. Along with the colour in their cheeks. They all went pale, but recovered quickly, and began popping shots like nobody's business. 

 Effortlessly firing towards the upturned vehicle you'd neglected earlier. The corroded metal giving, then completely chipping away. The sparks igniting the gas inside within seconds, blowing away a handful of the raiders unlucky enough to have been taking cover beside it. Two of them didn't die instantly, much to their dismay, and their screams pierce through the chaos, before dying out. Mangled bodies bleeding dry fairly quickly, and hearts giving out soon after. 

Only, it wasn't just the dying who were screaming. 

 You almost didn't notice it. At first, the sound was like thunder cracking right beside your ear. And you turned round, to see the manhole in the street had been blown open, the cover clanging heavily to the floor a stones throw away from the opening. 

 You heard what sounded like an... Animal, roaring, as a scaly claw clamped down on the rim. Pulling the rest of--whatever the fuck it was, out from the dregs of the underground.

 It... You didn't even know what it looked like. But it was fucking huge, with arms and legs almost resembling a humans, only with massive bulking thighs. And a chest that must've been the size of you, spanning broad shoulders, much too long arms hanging from them. It's head was just as thick, sturdy looking and solid, much like the rest of the creatures build. 

 Its horns were curled like a ram's, and a mouthful of crocodiles teeth filled its maw to complete the look. 

 It was almost worrying when the raiders reacted in full. You, clad in army destroying mechanical armour, hadn't been enough to spook these assholes enough to run. But one look at this guy, each and every one of them froze. 

 One of them screeched, voice high, and panicked. "DEATHCLAW!". Before the whole group scattered, tripping over one another in a disorganized stampede to get away. 

 You, however, chose not to move. Instead taking a moment to drink in the sight of this strange, mutation of nature before you. It was magnificent. Much more interesting than lions in the zoo. So this was what centuries of radioactive fallout could do to a--thing? 

  "Huh, why do they call it a deathcl--" 

 THWACK! 

 You froze, the creator swiped a huge, clawed hand across your front. The mere force of the gust it created almost knocking you over, even in your armour. You watched your left arm make contact with the building beside you, before it clattered to the ground.

Oh, that was why.

 "AAAAAHHHhhh-- oh, it's cool it was just my robot hand _I HAVE A ROBOT HAND?!_ " you threw yourself backwards, narrowly avoiding another hit. Clutching at the stump in adrenaline fueled horror. It was... Not agonizing, as you'd expected. But there was a sharp throbbing sensation shooting up through your nerves. Not, from a bloody stump, as you'd expected. But from a broken, slightly warped metallic joint. Wires leaking hydraulic fluids out from the machinery that continued up right to your shoulder. Where it bled into real flesh, like the joint of a doll. 

Last time you checked, you hadn't had a synthetic arm. But you had no time to concentrate on that at the moment. 

 With another low pitched growl, the creature lurched forwards, ramming its huge head straight into your torso. Knocking the wind right from your lungs from the sheer blunt force it packed. You struggled to step backwards to retreat, but it had already latched onto the armour frame. Gnawing through the thick metallic plating, claws and and jaw warping it as easily as crushing an aluminum can. 

 So. Having already pulled a plethora of stupid, completely brainless stunts today. You scrambled to climb out of the damn thing. He could keep it, that was a much better chew toy than your bones anyway. The distraction allowed you just enough time to slip out of it, leaving behind a present for it to sink its teeth into, before throwing yourself into the small corner store across the street. Stumbling a few times as you hurtled upstairs through the narrow stairway for good measure, to watch the creature safely from the second floor window. 

 The creature tore through the suit just as you  came to a crashing halt against the windowsill. Just in time to watch its face scrunch up in frustration when it found that you had already made your escape. 

 Just before it unlocked its jaw from the suits frame. The grenade you'd left behind detonated. Snapping it's jaw right open, but not with the splattering result you'd been hoping for. But it's jaw, was left too wide for it to not be broken, and the only sign the creature gave of being hit in the blast, was an almighty jolt. Before it stopped moving altogether. 

 Thank god you'd stopped to loot that last raiders jeans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So poor Mari has learned a lot about herself in the past few hours. Sheesh, waking up from a two century nap, two friends dead, tye world a shitstorm. Now, she's discovering that she is no longer considered human, and her left arm had been unknowingly replaced by a high functioning prosthetic. What. A. Day.  
>  Well, thanks for reading, and I do hope you enjoyed. If you did enjoy, why not leave a comment, or even a kudos?  
>  Till next time~


	5. Company Is Company No Matter How Strained

It took a little coaxing to get the group to leave the building after you'd explained what had happened. Marcy and Jun weren't too keen on leaving the safety of the museums walls, what with the raiders having fled rather than gotten, well, dead. Preston had his concerns too, that they might still be in the area. You snorted so hard it hurt at that. With the way those loons had legged it, there was no way they were still in the general vicinity. 

 Of course, there'd also been the matter of you missing an appendage from the elbow down. They'd all gotten a bit... Weary, of that, but had calmed down when you mentioned it seemed to stop at the shoulder. Then Sturges had checked it over for good measure, confirming your suspicions that, yes, it didn't go any farther. And he'd offered to check it over, see if he could fix anything up for you when you were all somewhere a bit safer. Which was good, because you might be right handed, but there was no way you had the dexterity in one hand alone to fix yourself up past clicking shit into place. 

 Then you'd all actually left the building. And the group bore witness to to the mess you'd made while they'd been holed up inside. Sturges mourned the loss of the power armour, but simmered down once you offered to help haul it back home to strip for salvageable parts. You grabbed the torn arm piece too, with your actual arm still inside. Who knows, maybe you could still use it? Both him and Preston seemed skeptical about you actually being able to make the short trek home whilst hauling the hulking piece of metal behind you. Though Preston was a lot more polite about it. But they underestimated your ingenuity. 

 After tearing up some cloth from the the raiders' shirts and twisting the scraps together into a makeshift rope. You tied it around a large scrap of wood from a broken, upturned table. Pushing it close to the broken suit so you could shove it on more easily. Then, throwing the arm on top of the pile, all that was left was to start walking. And you shot the two doubters a smug look as you walked beside them, letting the primitive trolley drag behind you. 

 "Okay, we get it, you had a good idea, we shouldn't have doubted you--happy?" the mechanic sighed, while Preston simply chuckled, giving you a bright smile. He seemed considerably happier now that everyone was back on track. But he still walked as if there was a great burden balanced on his shoulders. You couldn't help but notice that, that look, it lessened somewhat with every glance towards you. Something akin to what looked like hope flashing in his dark eyes. Huh, what was that about? Must just be glad he has someone with him around to help protect his friends. 

 The trek back home was long and short lived. Long because even despite your genius, that power armour was _heavy_. But it was over soon enough, since you refused to slow your pace. That was simply a matter of stupid pride.

 You were just approaching the Red Rocket Diner when Preston pulled you aside with a gentle hand, and the two of you trailed a little slower. Falling to the back of the group. He remained vigilant, but otherwise, you had his full attention. 

 "I want to thank you, again, for showing up when you did" he said quietly, and you opened your mouth to respond. But he wasn't done. 

 His lips pressed into a firm line for a moment, before he spoke again, "Not many people in the Commonwealth would do what you did, without expecting anything in return". It was only when he stopped speaking, that he turned to actually look at you. You didn't know how to respond to that. 

 "I don't see why they wouldn't. To be honest when I first got involved I wasn't even sure which side was the victim--I just shot back at the guys who shot me" you admitted truthfully. Still, his expression didn't waver, not in the slightest. He just... Smiled, as though he found something funny. 

 You cocked your head at that. "Nevertheless, I owe you one, if there's anything I can do to return the favor".

 A favor? "Well, there is this one thing, that I could use a hand with I mean" you mused, and Preston stood a little straighter. Evidently intrigued. Or apprehensive. You couldn't quite tell. He didn't speak, so you took that as your cue to just come out with it. 

 "My friends son, he's missing, or got taken--she didn't have much time to fill me in to be honest", you swallowed thickly, playing with the tattered end of a broken belt ring on your pants. "She said he had a scar, across his face", you looked up, peering into Preston face. He was frowning, hard, listening intently to what you had to say. You hoped he didn't notice the tremor in your voice, or the redness in your cheeks. The prickle of tears stinging your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Now wasn't the time. 

 You let a wobbly smile cross your face, "Maybe she was talking about you, huh?" you quipped. Enjoying the alarm that graced his face, and you pointed to the small, faint scar on his right cheek. 

 He began to protest immediately. "I would neve--" he spluttered, but you smooshed a playful finger to his lips, literally shutting him up. Snickering at the confused, yet offended frown on his face, as well as the really weirded out look in his eye. As his eyes darted between your hand, and your actual face. 

 " _Down_ boy, I was just lightening the mood. I don't think you're that kinda guy, relax" you were still snorting, but you chose that moment to muffle your mirth with your, well, only hand. He visibly relaxed, shoulders, that had been risen and tense, drooped slightly. "Couldn't help myself, you're the perfect kind of person to tease". 

 "Please don't do that again" he asked a little wearily, and you smirked. "That just guarantees I'm gonna mess with you again". 

 He didn't look exactly thrilled by that prospect, but he couldn't hide the amusement in his eyes. "Anyway, I was hoping you'd know a good place I could start looking?".

 "Better than that" an old woman's voice suddenly cut in behind you. And both of you spun around to face the owner. Finding Mama Murphy plodding along behind you, looking quite startled herself. How long had she...? 

 "You know the place, Garvey, Diamond City, I hear there's a fella there with _just_ the occupation you need" she continued on, eyeing both of you as if you'd just asked her to do the Tango in a monkey suit. "That, what was it--Nick, Valentine". 

 Preston eyes widened a fraction. Huh, so he knew who she was talking about. 

 "Nick? And he can give me a hand?" you asked eagerly, Preston shrugged. "Not sure, I've never met him, but He's got quite the reputation for helping folks" he said, "for a price" he added. 

 You hummed thoughtfully at that, "Shit, money huh? I've got an old stash of bills at home but, I dunno if they survived the bombs". 

 "Survived the--" Preston began, only to be abruptly cut off as Mama Murphy clapped him heartily on the back. It was a fond gesture, but it definitely took the man by surprise. "I'm afraid we don't have any caps to spare Hun, but I'm sure Garvey here will help get you sorted" she assured you, before she began walking over the small bridge to Sanctuary. A strange name they gave the neighborhood, but, you supposed. After all they'd been through to get here, to them, it was just that. 

 It then occurred to you, that all three of you had stopped at some point. But neither you nor Preston made to cross. So you both stayed put, for the moment. 

 "I'm not sure I feel entirely comfortable with leaving the group here undefended" Preston confessed honestly, looking at you, conflicted, and you could see him working over different scenarios in his head. 

 "You mean nobody here have weapons?" you asked. 

 Preston shook his head, "Small handguns and the like, but not much ammo, not that that'd be much good against much out there". 

 Oh. Well if that was all he was worried about.  "Why didn't you just say so?" you questioned, raising an eyebrow, before jogging across the bridge. Calling all the group over and beckoning them to your crumpled home. Just as Codsworth hovered over to check what all the fussing was about. He seemed about to protest against the settlers trespassing here, until he spotted you that is.

 "Hey perfect timing Codsworth, everyone mind helping me get this shit outta the way?" you half requested, half commanded. With mixed reactions, you ended up corralling everyone to help shift the remnants of the roof from the rubble. Just enough, for you to squeeze yourself into the trapdoor in what had once been your lounge. Disappearing into the inky black abyss below. While everyone stopped to wonder what it was you could possibly be doing. 

 The only noises for the few moments that followed, were the rummaging noise of you clattering below their feet. 

 Until, something suddenly filled the opening as you grunted under its weight. Heaving as you in turn pushed your entire body up against the box, eventually. You felt it finally give, tipping over the edge, allowing you to maneuver it out of the way. And you pulled yourself out halfway, to sit on the rim as you popped open the lid.

 Everyone's faces morphed from mild upset, to awe. 

 "Best part about havin' dirt on the big boss-- turnin' a blind eye to this shit" you said by way of explanation, and Preston rushed forwards to inspect the loot. Pulling out, with extreme care that told you he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing, a moderately sized machine gun. He checked the rounds, seeming satisfied, and clicked the mag back into place. Looking to you with disbelief and growing wonder in his eyes. Almost childlike, only he was playing with big boy toys. 

 "I got a few more guns themselves, but much more ammo. Overkill, maybe", you pushed yourself forward again. Landing with a quiet thud, to gather the equipment together for someone else to bring up. Heck they could do the heavy lifting considering what it was you were just handing over. You only had one arm and goddammit you were far too tired to deal with that crap.

 "Knew all this'd come in handy one day, just thought it'd be for shootin' up soldiers and not mutant bugs and assholes with an itchy trigger fingers" you yelled out from inside the hole, and you felt something brush against you, as someone dropped down beside you. While you, deciding you'd had enough, made your way out. This time, Preston offered you a hand, and with strength that surprised you, given his lean build. He quite easily pulled you up and out, and you shot him a thankful smile. 

 "This make you feel better?" you asked playfully, raising a confident eyebrow. 

 He nodded, looking at little overwhelmed at the sight of so many weapons. "Yeah" he breathed, "That'll do it". 

 While the Longs worked on gathering up all the supplies you'd offered up. You, Sturges and Preston had gathered around the building next door. Sturges, god bless that mechanic, had actually managed to salvage what was left of your arm from the broken suit, though he warned you to keep a lookout for spare parts. Since it was only a make-do fix, and it would need proper adjustments in the future, when you'd found the right bits. Until then, he warned that it would be much more prone to detaching under too much pressure. But had fixed it so that you only really needed to slot it back in place. Easy enough, you could do that. Though you'd hissed at the sharp sting when he'd reattached it though. When nerves, or whatever was in there, connected together again. You again wondered why it was you could still... Feel, with your artificial limb replacement. Though nevertheless, you were happy to have it back, and you made your gratitude known. Th mechanic simply waved it off. 

 It was as he was checking your arm over, that he decides to check over your other extremities as well. 'Just in case', he said. But you couldn't help but feel there was more to it. He seemed to relax immensely once he determined that, for definite, your other arm really _was_ your arm. Though another fate had apparently been bestowed upon your legs.

 You heard the clang when he gave your knees an experimental tap. But you wouldn't have believed it otherwise. A few carefully placed incisions, and you found yourself staring at a pair of completely mechanical legs. 

How had you not felt the difference?

 Preston had then murmured something about if you'd noticed any significant memory loss as of late. But you denied it, truthfully, and that seemed to satisfy the both of them. 

 "You'd be better keeping the metal bits on display" Sturges had suggested. "Easier to maintain, leaves them open to the elements, but folk'll be a lot more forgivin' seeing it all from the get go". 

 So you ended up ripping the false flesh off completely. It was... Painful? It hurt as if you were really ripping it off bone for a moment, but then it was just... Gone. If you hadn't know for a fact it was false flesh, you would've believed it was actually just your very own skin. 

 You felt a little bad for kicking Sturges in the gut though. As he'd offered to keep your legs steady. Hey, it had hurt a lot for a moment there okay? You couldn't help your legs jerking about like that. 

 The good news was, Preston, now content that the settlers would be safe for a little while by themselves. Had agreed to see you to this Diamond City place, as well as give you a general rundown on how things worked economy wise (so you wouldn't get hoodwinked whenever you tried to trade), as well as anything you encountered. And he had assured you that you would encounter something, it wasn't even a matter of if, just when, and what. 

 You both agreed to take a day to recover from. Well. Everything. As well as generally getting everyone settled before you left, and you spent quite a while helping him do that. Both you and Codsworth swore off Nate and Nora's house, you claiming it as your own so that people wouldn't be tempted to trespass in an empty house. Moving some of your surviving shit was a simple matter, now that you had both arms again, and you really only decided to claim a few trinkets. Everything else went to the scrap heap, to be recycled in the building of new walls, or anything else between. Honestly that mechanic was a godsend, so you had no doubt he'd find a use out of everything he could get his hands on. Preston himself waited for everyone to pick their favored houses, before he himself chose to settle down just next door. Everyone it seemed, but him, Sturges and Mama Murphy, had some kind of problem about your new found race. Though for most it went unmentioned, and had chosen to steer clear of you and your new home for the foreseeable future. Though not far enough away, that they'd be neglected should anyone come around here bringing trouble. They were uneasy about you, but they knew what side their bread was buttered. You would have been offended, but you'd found nice people in the three more open minded folk you'd acquainted yourself with. Them having an issue with you, was one sided, and so therefore, their problem to deal with. 

 You retreated for the night pretty early in the evening. You were tired, yes. But more emotionally than physically, you hadn't fought like that in over two years. So it was a larger strain on your head than, well, anything else. As was practically everything else that had happened in the past--well, day. 

You were exhausted. 

 Codsworth had been surprisingly uneasy about having new people around to poke about the neighborhood. In fact, you were almost positive he disliked their presence, but as ever, he was a gracious host. Even though his polite comments still felt like he was slapping them all in the face. 

 "Why are you so against having people here? I understand you feel uneasy, especially given how things have changed so much, but I thought you'd enjoy having people around again". 

 The robot hesitated, his whole body pausing, as his three eyes twitched uncertainly. You couldn't help your face falling a little at that, it wasn't nice to see him so... Uncomfortable. 

 "I say Ma'a--Miss Maria, I must admit. I am very concerned about the new company" he tentatively confided, sounding increasingly more upset as he spoke. "I'm not entirely sure these strangers are _safe_ ". 

 "I get that, I understand, but you know me, and you know that my judgement of people is usually sound. Mostly. I trust the mechanic, and their _protector_ " you soothed, pausing a moment yourself. "I dunno yet about everyone else, but I think the sheep can be kept in line easy enough". 

 "If you're certain Miss" he reluctantly conceded. 

 You nodded, flashing him what you hoped looked like a reassuring grin. "I am, besides, I know for sure I can count on you to keep an eye on things while I'm gone". 

 That seemed to perk the robot up a bit. And for the rest of the evening, you allowed him to fuss and pamper you all he liked. Happy to have someone familiar to look after again. 

 

 The next morning, Preston awoke to a very unusual sight. You, you were talking about you. You'd ran in shrieking, still not quite awake yet, in a blind panic. And he'd only just managed to sit up in his bed, before you'd burst into his room. Almost kicking the door off his hinges, while he scrambled around in his underwear to snatch up his rifle.

 "W-what the--what's happening, how many are there?!" he yelled in a voice hoarse from sleep. Not quite registering the fact you'd actually pounced on his bed, and on him, until he dropped his gun. Fumbling to catch it after your body had knocked it from his hands. 

 You were too disorientated to really make sense of it yourself. But the man's face relaxed slightly as he noticed the glassy look in yours. Eyes dazed and unfocused, even though the expression on your face contained pure, unbridled hysteria. 

 He realized you were still dreaming, before you did. 

 The realization however, did not stop you from grabbing the man by the shoulders. Shaking his vigorously, as you bellowed into the poor man's face. "SHAUN. IS. _MISSING_! AND THE WORLD IS BROKEN AND--and--" your panic abruptly subsided. 

 Wait. What had you been doing? Who was that guy? Hadn't you been panic-yelling at _Nate_? Why was _Preston_ here? 

 And why were you not in your house? In your nightshirt? 

"Where am I and why am I here?" you asked bluntly, blinking away the fog from your eyes. Despite knowing for a fact you'd slept the night, it felt like you'd not slept at all. "And why am I on you?". 

 Preston, the poor man, regarded you with wide, very scared looking eyes. As if afraid of upsetting you by telling you he didn't have a fucking clue. 

 "I was hoping you could tell me?" he answered, though it ended in a question itself. 

 Both of you just, stared at one another. Only for Codsworth to arrive on the scene shortly afterwards, blithering and frantic. He seemed to sag in relief at the sight of you. 

"Thank goodness you're alright Miss--you ran off so quickly--I thought you were still sleeping" he began rambling, helping you down with quivering tentacles. Preston huffed at the sensation of metal knees digging into his thighs as you moved. 

 You looked to Preston again. "I was dreaming..." you mumbled, brows furrowing as you tried to piece the last few minutes of your life together. "And now I'm not" you finished dumbly, mouth stretching into a wide yawn, as you crushed your robot arm a little too hard into your eye. You clocked yourself in the face. With your new robo arm. Yeah. That was still gonna take some getting used too. 

 Preston cleared his throat, loudly, to get your attention, but you waved him off, dismissing him with no sense of guilt whatsoever. Too tired. Wanted bed. Too fucking early for people-ing. 

 Yawning again, you grumbled something unintelligible (even to you), and stumbled out the door. While Codsworth remained stood in the doorway, dithering between wanting to follow, and wanting to apologize on your behalf. 

 "I must apologize deeply for Miss's behavior--I'm afraid she's um" he hesitated a fraction, eyes swiveling to check that you were in fact gone, before continuing. "Had an issue with walking while at rest, when she's particularly stressed", he was fiddling with the dormant blade of his cutter accessory. An uncharacteristic display of embarrassment. Again. On your behalf. 

 Preston bobbed his head, albeit slowly, looking like he wanted nothing more than to forget that this morning had ever happened. "Right...". 

 Taking the hint, the Mr Handy began to back out in a graceful retreat. Though just before he left, he found the confidence to quite cheerfully shout, "Don't be disheartened, this means she likes you!", before making his final exit. Leaving Preston blearily wondering whether the woman he'd met was actually a woman at all, or some strange, exotic, very _strange_ , wild animal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND SO, THINGS ARE GETTING STARTED!  
>  Now we just have to wait and see how things will develop from here. Expect much more in depth interactions in the future, this chapter is a little blasé in the whole conversation department, I know. But good things come to those who wait, plus Maria was exhausted, so of course things would fly by quite quickly. Things often go ovee your head when you're tired, and that's how I wanted it to feel.   
>  Well, thank you very much for reading, and I do hope you enjoyed. If ypu did enjoy why not leave some nice feedback, or even a kudos?  
>  Till next time~


	6. Making a Friend, And Getting Promoted!

For some reason, today Preston was being _really_ quiet. And not the companionable, good kind of silence where both parties silently appreciated each others company. No. It was... You don't know what it was, actually. It just wasn't _good_. 

 Now, let's see. In situations like this, you should break the silence, right? That's what you always did with Nate, and Nate and you had been best buddies. So you were obviously doing _something_ right! Granted, him, Nora and Codsworth were your _only_ friends that weren't dead--hadn't been dead. But it still counted.

 Your shoulders drooped. You hoped it still counted. 

 "So this guy walks into the bar, looking glum" you started, ignoring the way the man beside you jolted in favor of winning him over with humour. Your humour was the best humour. Codsworth had said so, and he never lied. You continued, feeling much more confident in yourself, "His friend notices this and says "What's up with you today", guy says "My  wife left me the other day". His friend is confused, "Well how can that be?" he asks, "You two looked so happy together what went wrong?". Now the guy, he shakes his head "Slip of the tongue" he explains".

You had commanded the commanders full attention by now, and he looked intrigued. Still wide eyed, but it was definitely an improvement than three seconds ago. 

 Encouraged, you kept it going, this time using your best imaginary-man-voice impersonations for effect. "The man looks at his friend sadly, and tells him "I meant to say, 'pass the salt dear', but what I actually said was 'You _ruined_ my _life_ you stupid cow!".

 Silence. 

 You looked back to Preston, who had apparently decided to promptly stop walking at some point. So you had to twisle around to face him again. His face was making a very interesting expression, with a hand pressed against his mouth. 

"You doing okay there?" you asked a little apprehensively. "You look constipated". 

 "I'm... Fine" he managed. Looking very much like he couldn't decide if he should be laughing or not. You tried to encourage him to give in by wiggling your eyebrows (Only to remember that you no longer technically _had_ eyebrows anymore), but he simply lowered his head. 

 The most undignified snort escaped his mouth, and he hurried to try and cover it. But the damage had been done. You'd already heard it. And it. Was. Glorious. 

 Then he cleared his throat and ruined it by going back to looking uncomfortable. 

 "So, what's got your knickers in a twist?", maybe a bit blunt. But it certainly got his attention. You noticed he didn't quite look you in the eye when he went to speak, you'd both been walking across the the wasteland roads for about an hour now. So you were happy enough to for the break in silence. 

 "I'm still not sure about leaving everyone back at sanctuary with Raiders hanging around", huh. A bluff. Not a bluff? Yeah, a bluff. You decided not to comment on it. Codsworth had been acting weird this morning too. Maybe it was just a guy thing? 

 "They'll be fine, with all that firepower and the combined effort, they'd have to all be blind and deaf to not hit somethin', Codsworth will keep them safe if they can't". You weren't even kidding either, he was scary when he was angry. And he had a blowtorch attachment. Preston seemed to nod at that, somewhat satisfied. 

 "Think of it this way Garvey-boy" you started, taking a deep breath, and blowing it back out sharply. Roughly patting the man on the back, he raised an eyebrow even as he stumbled forwards a bit. "With how damn clueless I am around here, you're protecting me here-- and in my condition I need it a damn sight more than those guys back there do". He still didn't seem convinced. 

 "Think of it this way--I just woke up to this shit show that fucked over my entire world and I dunno heads from tails around here. You can be like--my cool friend- stranger guide! Teach me the ropes!". 

 "I dunno" Preston countered, looking you up and down skeptically. "You seem to be good at taking care of yourself, with how you handled those Raiders". You shrugged. "And the Deathclaw". 

 "Eh I knew how to down a guy way before the world went to shit" you waved off. 

 "So you got lucky?" he asked. 

 You shrugged. You didn't really wanna get into that so early in the morning. That would set the tone for the rest of the day, and you really wanted a good day. Unsatisfied, Preston let it go. Albeit reluctantly. 

 You'd left Concord behind a while now. And so you'd gotten right into the heart of Cambridge, heading for the southeast of the city, Preston explaining that this Diamond City place was just a stones throw away after crossing one of the two bridges from there. Lucky you, you had a whole selection. Or was it the South West? Eh, he was the one with the map it was his problem. The only map you had was on the beat up, old Pip-boy Codsworth had found a while ago, and had given it to you that morning. But the thing was mostly useless for any new locations for after the bombs had dropped. It wasn't a map specialized for the Commonwealth wastelands, that was for sure, so it was up to Preston to not get you two lost. 

 Speak of the devil. He turned towards you again, having previously been facing forwards. Scanning the area for any signs of danger, before looking up at you. Face generally relaxed, in fact you'd even say he looked strangely excited. Almost as if he'd come to some sort of decision. 

 Only, instead of saying whatever he'd been thinking of. He made a very suddenly alarmed face, raising his rifle and shoving you aside in one fluid motion. While hiss-shouting, "Ferals!". 

 Wait what? Ferals? What are ferals? 

 You didn't have much time to ponder that question before you were distracted by the cracking shot that went ripping past your head. With the ringing in your ears, loud and disorientated, it took longer than it should have to register the screaming noises following shortly after. Growling and snarling of what you imagined to be unrestrained beast like creatures behind you. Only to turn and find you'd only been half right. Half rotted looking corpses, too thin to be alive yet still moving in jerky, violent and unbalanced movements. As if simply running took all the coordination they had, humanoid figures running with all abandon and propelling themselves forwards whilst flailing violently with their jagged movements. All running towards you, and Preston. And they definitely weren't there to wish you a warm welcome. 

 Unfortunately. The shot Preston had taken barely even slowed the creature down. And after jerking with the force of the bullet that embedded itself deep into the creatures shoulder, it just as easily barreled itself into you. Without any hesitation whatsoever, simply hissing louder, as if angered by the attack. And you fell over with an alarmed shriek, suddenly confronted with the decaying corpse like monster who's Jaws were snapping at your face with jagged, misplaced teeth. Holding it back with a quivering forearm across its chest, blocking any further movement. As well as another hand pushing harshy against its shoulder, only to feel the rough, mottled flesh give away under your fingers, skin coming off like a sleeve of grotesque as it peeled away. 

 Thankfully, Preston quickly came to your rescue. Kicking the damn thing off by ramming his boot right into its jaw. And it rolled off trying to clutch at you at anything it could reach. But Garvey was already hooking a hand under your shoulder as you kicked yourself away from the monster. Hauling you to your feet and practically dragging you along with him as you both threw yourselves down the street. Running very fast in the opposite direction, listening to the horrifying, furious wails trail behind you. Snipping at your fleeing ankles. 

 The shock then took second place as your brain whirred into action. Pushing the terror down for later so that you could focus on the problem at hand. With Preston's hand still in an iron grip around your upper arm, your eye darted every which way around the streets as you flew by. Looking for something, anything that you could use to your advantage. Finally spotting a corroded looking fire escape down the alleyway to your upcoming left. 

 "Why didn't you fricking _tell_ me zombies exist now?!". 

 Snatching his arm as you hastily changed direction. The man made a high pitched yelping noise as you suddenly darted left down the tight alleyway. You briefly considered simply taking position right there and then,use the tight space as a funnel to take the hoard of monsters in human form out with some relative form of control. But decided against it quickly after. 

 Relief flashed in Preston's dark eyes when his gaze finally rested on the rusted ladder. And you quickly shoved him forwards, and he obediently latched onto it, ignoring the worrying creak the metal gave under his weight as he began scrambling up it. You following quickly after as soon as his butt was out of the way. And you mentally begged him to move faster as the eerie screeches rounded the corner approaching fast, with you still very much in arms reach. 

 "Preston movemovemovemove! I don't wanna be a human-happymeal!" your voice was, you would happily admit. Hysterical. But you had reason enough to be, and you felt your stomach drop through your ass as bony fingers grasped at the bottoms of your shoes. Shuddering at the close call in both relief and also trying to stop yourself from hurling all over the groaning faces underneath you. 

 "I saw my life flash before my eyes", you payed no mind as Preston helped pull you over the edge. And both of you settled on the rooftop, he seemed quite relieved, but your shoulders were still up by your ears. Both of you looked at one another, and for a moment. Everything was calm. 

 You then promptly emptied the contents of your stomach over the edge. Body tensing as you spewed bile and chunks of spam onto the street below. 

 Meanwhile. Preston, who had decided to be smart and survey the surrounding area, gave you a very sympathetic look. Rubbing awkward, soothing circles on your back. After losing all sense of dignity you had, you wiped at the slimy residue from your chin. Standing abruptly and walking over the the edge of the building, hopping over to the next with relative grace. Even if you still couldn't quite stand up straight yet.

 "Welp, c'mon let's get going, follow the smell of tears and vomit and we'll get somewhere were shooting those guys down there will be a little easier", you paused. Looking back to Garvey with a wobbly grin. "As the vomit was mine, I recommend facing away from me" you quipped, earning a chuckle-grimace from the man who followed suit. 

 "You don't do too well in a crisis, duly noted" he quipped, and you gasped in mock offense. Grasping the man by the scruff of his coat to yank him forwards when he began flailing backwards. Having landed badly when he'd tried to hop to the other side. The audience below seemed all the more disappointed. 

 "Excuse me there pal, I do fabulously under crisis, but there's a big difference between a 'hey this is a totally possible thing that can happen' crisis and a ' _fucking zombies that nobody ever told me even existed came out of nowhere and were trying to eat our faces_ ' crisis". 

 "Sure, sure" Preston was still smiling. It was nice, it felt like he was getting more comfortable around you now. Who knew all it took to melt the tension was to get chased by a hoard of freaky monster people? 

 Then of course the bastard ruined it and frowned at you. "But those weren't zombies back there" he said seriously. Okay, now he looked beyond uncomfortable. "Those were Ghouls". 

 This guy. You didn't even bother trying to hide the snort that left your mouth at that. Settling your hands to your hips and rolling your eyes. "I do _not_ look like that buddy". 

 "Normal ghouls, you're right, those down there?" he waved a hand downwards, you could still hear them groaning below. Following as you hopped from building to building. "Those are Ferals, the radiation damaged their brains beyond repair. Now they're just driven by--" 

 "--By mindless instinct?" you finished for him. And his mouth opened to say something, but thought better of it. Nodding. 

 "That's sad" you sighed. Only for you to freeze suddenly, eyes going wide with horror. "I'm not gonna be li--" 

 "--no, no, I mean I'm no expert but, you'll be fine" he hurried to assure you, but looked a little unsure. Still, it made you feel much better about yourself. Maybe in this Diamond City place you could meet another one of those Ghouls like you? Put your mind at ease, but for now, you'd take Preston's word for it. 

 "Well, that's a relief, it'd be a shame if I went nuts and had to get put down by my new BFF" you snickered, playfully punching Preston on the shoulder. Only to apologize as you helped the poor man get his balance. This time it was your fault he lost his footing. 

 Then something finally seemed to stick in that brain of his. And his face didn't even flinch as you plucked the hat off his head, pulling it over your own with the rim down over your eyes. Giggling as you blindly played hop-scotch without the gift of sight to help you on your way. 

 This time, it was walking straight into you that shut him up. 

 "What the--" 

 "Shhhh, lookie there, there's a lady" you shushed him before he could complain. Crouching low and forcing him down to the ground with you. Your eyes were focused on a pair of slow moving figures, that disappeared just a few block down. Vanishing from sight behind the corner of what must have once been a corner shop. With the window all smashed up and broken in, the remnants of the window nothing but faded, dirty glass shards. 

 The ghouls below went quiet. 

 "Well, they don't look like raiders" Preston mused, voice lower than it had been a minute ago. He wiped a band across his mouth, eyes focused on the corner where the couple had disappeared. 

 You hummed in response. He looked to you, but your eyes were focused elsewhere. 

 The ghouls below had apparently taken notice of the new arrivals. Sniffing quietly at the air and restlessly pawing at the ground as they listened for the new prey. The new, unaware, more accessible, much more appealing prey. 

 You hesitated for a second. Then began firing. 

 Three deformed, hairless heads exploded within quick succession of another. Before the remaining six took off around the opposite side of the building. Whether they were fleeing from your assault or running off towards the couple, you couldn't tell. But now that the gunshots had rang out across the city, they seemed to have given up on the idea of stealth altogether. Sprinting with clumsy, aggravated movements as they split apart, each deciding they had a better path to find the new flesh than one another. 

 If your shots had done any good. At least it had alerted the pair now screaming and running for their lives. 

 Was that your fault? Ah fuck it. 

 With a pat to your new friends back. You vaulted over the side of the building. Landing a bit too heavily on your right leg, but otherwise perfectly fine. And you bolted right after them all, so fast that you realized a bit too late you'd have a bit of trouble stopping should you need too. You needed to anyway, if you were to have a snowballs chance in hell of catching up to the two fleshies before they became fleshbags. 

 Turning the corner, you saw immediately that right at the far end of the main street now, the couple had found themselves cornered by the Ferals who had somehow managed to surround them on all sides. 

 Wait... Was that why they had all run off in different directions? Huh, maybe they weren't as brain dead as you'd been led to believe. 

 Still, both were guarding eachother backs, and turning slowly in a steady circle. Eyeing the snapping creatures warily as they all simply charged them all at once. Not the slightest bit phased when the pair hastily sidestepped them, and they crashed painfully to th3 floor. One even broke its arm when it fell, landing badly on its outstretched arm, which snapped upon impact, and simply dangled brokenly at an odd angle. Lolling in its socket as it moved. 

 You began firing without hesitation, trusting your aim to not make mincemeat out of the people your were trying to prevent from dying. Both of whom seemed fairly shocked at your appearance, at first grateful. Only for their faces to shift into barely concealed disdain, wrinkling their noses at you in disgust that matched the same look they were shooting at their assailants. 

 Well, that certainly wasn't a very good way to look at someone who was saving their asses. Surely even the dumbest of morons had enough sense in the self preservation department to be a little kinder to someone you're relying on to get you out of a mess like that. 

 As much as you'd have liked to just sit back and watch until they'd lost enough flesh to reflect on their behavior. You decided, just barely, they you were above such petty revenge. Mostly. Maybe. Plus these people were in serious danger of dying, and turning your nose up at these people who'd done the same at you, would most likely end up dead. It wasn't worth essentially killing the pair just because they were racist asshats. 

 The problem is, these things didn't even try to avoid gunfire. Which was great for you, it was very hard to miss. But hitting them was the easy part, the harder part was hitting them in the right places enough by the time they'd already made it to tango with you personally. They seemed to have a nasty habit of barreling straight for their targets. Easy enough to avoid, but it was so off-putting to witness. How little what once had been a person, just like you, pounce with such aggression and relative disregard for their own lives. Just for a chance. Just for a taste of still warm flesh. 

 Your shots had attracted two of the Ferals guile again, ignoring or uncaring of the other two that simply dropped like fallen logs by their sides. Both darted towards you in that unnerving way, but you sidestepped the first, and the second. Slamming your knee into its abdomen, and then completing the routing by slamming your elbow into the base of its skull. You heard the sickening crunch of bone, felt the flesh give away as the bone supporting it caved in on itself. The body stopped moving instantly, landing beside its still alive friend, who also perished quickly after. After you turned, pulling back the hammer of your gore splattered pistol to drive yet another bulled straight into its brain. 

 Turning to face the remaining two calmly, you found that both survivors were locked, grappling their respective ghouls separately. Both seeming to struggle with holding the gnashing maws away from their throats. The lady, who had been wearing a similar travel coat to Preston, stepped back a little too suddenly. Heel catching on the tattered coat tails of her frock, and she tumbled to the floor with a high pitched yelp. The ghoul following her down and simply using the opportunity to sink its remaining teeth into her wrist. 

 She continued to scream even as you swung your foot back. Foot connecting solidly under the creatures chin, and it actually left the floor as it flew off. Knocked up into open air with the force of your hit. 

 Apparently, you must have it it hard enough. Since it didn't get up again. Must've broken its neck. 

 A familiar sounding gunshot sounded behind you, and you turned to face the man you'd left behind. Who, having done his job, collapsed into a heaving crouch again. Gasping for breath in the searing heat that his whole outfit probably didn't make any better. Sweat beading down the sides of his face. 

 "About time you showed up". 

 "Never--do that... Again" he heaved. Eyes furrowed as he made a pained expression, clutching his side. Evidently winded. 

 "What? Save two innocent lives from a horrible, horrible death?". 

 The winded man gave you a look. "No, I was talking about jumping off a two-story building". 

"My robot legs can handle it--besides time was of the essence, they needed help!". You gesture to the pair, who were helping eachother to their feet as you spoke. Both were sending you wary glances. 

 "We can't pay you for that" The woman sneered, looking both of you up and down. Heh, pleasant people, weren't they? 

 "Good for you, have a good day, we gotta be somewhere and time's-a-wasting". 

 Both of them gawked, but you were already dragging the still gasping Preston back down the street. Back to were the ghouls had first crawled out from the woodwork, since you were lost already and was really hoping the man you were pulling wasn't. 

"They were nice" you chuckled, voice dripping with sarcasm, while Preston simply blew out another tired breath. "Maybe a little less of the attitude, manners go a long way". 

 "Well Miss, not many people would do what you did, and not expect some sort of payment for it" the man easily explained. Or excused. Either way you weren't happier for it. 

 "Well why not? It's not that hard, it's just--the right thing to do". 

 "Believe it or not, the right thing to do isn't always the easiest choice for a lot of people now" Preston sighed wearily. 

  "In that way, the world hasn't changed much then I guess" you murmured undee your breath. 

 "Maybe one day, it could be" Preston suddenly challenged. Oh shit, he'd heard you. You weren't sure you liked that look on his face, like he was up to something and that something had a lot to do with you. Good or otherwise. 

 Well. You'd taken the conversation this far. Okay, you'd bite. "What are you thinking in that head of yours mister?". 

 "I want you to become the general of the Minutemen" he announced bluntly. 

... Wait. He was being serious. Wasn't _he_ the general of the Minutemen? Why would he want to hand that over to you? You couldn't deny, you weren't thrilled with the prospect he was putting up. You'd had more than enough of the military lifestyle, the idea of being a general of anything didn't sit by you very well. 

 "Isn't that you? Why would you hand that kinda power over to me?". 

"That's not who I am" "I can get my men through a firefight. I can defend a perimeter against all odds. But that's nit going to be enough to bring the Minutemen back from the brink" 

"We need someone who can bring the whole commonwealth together in a common cause, I think you've got it in you to be that leader". 

 You scoffed. "Yeah, no. You've known me for a day Buddyboy, I could be a weird phycopath murderer for all you know. What would give yourself that idea?". 

"You saved us in concord" he argued just as sharply. "There wasn't anything in it for you. You had your own problems, but you did it anyway". 

 Why did it seem that his insistence was more than just what he was saying, that it went deeper than just what anything you could've done went. Like this was a burden, and it was a burden he didn't want, or couldn't, bear himself. 

 And so, was trying to thrust onto you. 

"That kind of selflessness had been in mighty shirt supply around here for quite a while". Ah, well. You hadn't actually expected that. The kind words, they surprised you more than you'd care to admit. You'd never received praise before, not from anyone who wasn't... Well. Obligated to, like your teammates, even if they had been good friends, or from family, like Nate, and Nora. Even Codsworth on occasions. They'd all sang praises for you enough to make you glow brighter than irradiated sludge. 

 This praise, it was new. And it made you fluster, but thankfully, your mottled skin actually made it hard to notice. You considered that a plus. Not that you really cared either way. 

 "We need more of that, and honestly, I think you have it in you to bring that out in people". 

 You weren't quite convinced what he was saying had any weight to it. You could fight like a wild animal, but, well. You weren't the kind of person that could inspire that kind of change, in anyone.

 But...

 You couldn't deny that look of hope in that man's eyes.

"... Alright. I'll bite". 

 The smile that graced Prestons face was akin to that of the sun. For the first time, he beamed at you. Really beamed, relief and genuine happiness rolling into one. "Good, good! He breathed, voiced strengthening halfway through. 

 "Welcome aboard. I'll be with you all the way..." he promised as his face became more seriousness, but that small smile remained. He paused a moment,  "General" he said with more conviction than ever before. 

 Ah well, it wasn't like you weren't all that unfamiliar with the role. Though you'd never been in the position of leader before, quite the promotion you guess. Shame you weren't getting the pay too. 

"The one good thing about being the last Minutmen is that there's nobody to argue with me when I say you're the new general" the man chuckled more lightheartedly, now he'd won you over. And you welcomed this change, small as it was. And you laughed along with him, boisterously. You felt good about this. You knew what you were doing, and you liked to think that maybe your skills could save lives in this new world. From what you'd seen of it, it was goddamn ugly, perfect, what you were very much accustomed to. As sad as that was to say. But it gave you a sense of spirit to think that you could do some good in it. More than you'd ever been able to do before the bombs had dropped. 

 Heh... Funny, wasn't it? All it took for you to be useful again was for the world to end. 

 "Now it'll be up to you to make that more than just an empty title". 

 Jeez Preston. No pressure or anything. Way to make a girl feel relaxed about a situation she hadn't even bothered to think over. 

 "Yeah, now I'm convinced you're just trying to sound cool". 

 The two of you had stopped moving during your stay little talk. So you nudged his side then to get him moving, and the pair of you continued at a lazy pace, casually strolling down the now completely deserted road. The atmosphere felt much more relaxed now, and you weren't blind to the guilty looks Preston kept flashing your way. When he obviously thought you weren't looking.

 Ah. Well. It was worth whatever the cost he'd cast upon you. To make someone look so much less like Atlas. The while not maybe spring in his step restored, you also felt much better. Now the whole vibe between the two of you was no longer weird, or tired. 

 It took a while for either of you to speak up again. In fact, you'd both just passed by the bridge, now ankles deep in rainwater. Or sewage--you couldn't tell. It smelled just as bad either way, and the water ripe with radiation was a filthy green colour that made you feel like tossing cookies all over again.

 The water, the broken, crumbling streets. The scarred, barren landscape of barely clinging to life shrubbery. The world itself just looked so--so ill. And sick. Diseased.

 "Our last leader was General Becker, he died in '82, nobody could agree on who to take his place" you heard Prestons voice suddenly fill the quiet between your combined footsteps and rustling clothing. He didn't expect an answer, since he didn't so much as glance at you. That and he kept talking. That too. 

 This time, you listened without interruption. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AH. Ferals. Yes, I'm not letting Mari live on easy street, even if she can fight better than I could ever hope to. Not that I'd ever need to. I'm a chef. I don't NEED to fight, like, ever. Not like I go to the kitchen bracing to beat a giant fish into submission before it goes into the pan.   
>  Anyway, yeah, but looks like Marie is mooore than a little apprehensive about Preston pushing that role onto her without any prior warning. And rightfully so, although I love Preston, part of this request had always seemed a little selfish to me. I mean who would give that much power to someone they'd just met? Even if common decency and general kindness does mean the world in, well, that world, it's still a tiny bit of a stretch.   
>  Let's just hope Maria can live up to it, huh? 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed. Why not leave a comment for some well needed feedback? Or even a kudos if you really like this? Welp.   
>  Till next time~


	7. Diamond City

It took a few more hours for Preston to announce that you were getting close to the city. He kept making us change direction too, abruptly, and usually after pointing in the direction you were both supposed to be going. Only to usher you both very quickly into the direct opposite. You would have complained, but thanks to your experienced ears and the ghost-town state of the remnants of what used to have been Boston, (the ruins you see, were deathly quiet). You more often than not heard the reason why. In the form of slight popping, cracking, and on one occasion in particular-- very aggressive sounding yelling and what sounded like some sort of dog barking is brains out. Which Garvey paled at. You understood why. If you could hear it that loudly from any kind of distance away. It must've been a damn bloody big dog.

 "That, doesn't sound good" you whistled as you were, for the umpteenth time, abruptly dragged down a dismal looking alleyway to avoid the unseen source of sound. Only to be even more harshly shushed by a hand clapping right over your mouth. You let out a muffled noise of complaint, but Preston ignored you. Only murmuring a low apology for what you assumed to be manhandling a lady. With an exaggerated roll of your eyes, you consented to being shushed by the man pulling the both of you into a garbage bin. 

Fun. The smell was a bit less than pleasant, but yeah. Nice and cozy.

 It was only a moment later you found out exactly why you'd both been unceremoniously shoved into a garbage can. 

 Something--something you couldn't see, but you heard approaching. Began snuffling loudly just outside. With only a thin sheet of metal keeping you from it. Whatever 'it' was. And by the way Preston tensed under you, it wasn't a good thing.

 The two of you remained huddled in there for a while. But soon enough the snuffling stopped. Called away by a strangled voice too far away to worth bothering about.

 "Ya gonna tell me what that was about there?" You asked quietly.

 Preston shot you a questioning look for a moment, then seemed to realize something, and nodded distractedly. Still preoccupied with peeking out cautiously from the trash lid. "Mutants, and their hounds" he answered. As if that explained everything. But after bearing witness to a living breathing mutant abomination demon-beast, you figured it was something pretty bad. 

"Huh, good thing you stuffed us in here then, trash must've masked our scent" you reasoned, and Preston bobbed his head. As if he hadn't even considered that factor. And for a moment, you seriously doubted that you should let this guy take the reigns of this whole wasteland tour, even if you did know sod all about it. 

"You're not going to ask about the mutants?" Preston asked curiously, apparently satisfied that you two were safe for the moment. And turned to face you properly, but in that dark, confined space of long past spoiled rubbish. Neither of you actually saw much of the other.

You shrugged. Even though he probably couldn't see it, but he must've heard the rustling amongst the clutter. "Heh yeah, there's that too, i'm guessing they're something to worry about?" You pried.

Preston bobbed his head again. "I'd say you guessed right".

 Great. Real informative. Christ your prosthetic was killing your shoulder. And your knee. This must've been how Nate felt with his own back...back when the world was right.

 You allowed a moments pause before speaking up again. "Are we talking...raider trouble or clawdeath trouble?"

"Deathclaw" he corrected bluntly.

"Oh, so _bad_ -bad?" You grimaced. And you felt Preston nod beside you. Ah bullheuy. Why couldn't the damn bombs make giant fluffy puppies and mega bunny rabbits and not hell monsters ravenous for the taste of human flesh?

"Well there are enough of them mulling around the commonwealth, so I suspect we'll be running into them at some point, you'll see then".

 Oh. Great. 

"Huh. Well what do they look like?" You pressed, feeling a bit exasperated that Garvey wasn't giving you the full rundown like you needed. You were expecting like a whole briefing, not a brief--sentence.

"Big, green, but mostly big, they aren't too bright but their brawn more n make up for it, tough to take down if you aren't prepared for it" he provided for you as he began to push himself out of the smelly pit with a grunt. You couldn't see his face, with his leg hooked over the rim the way it was. But you heard the relief as he drank in the fresh air. With a quiet thud, his feet his the floor on the other side. And after a moment, you followed through. Grimacing as your mechanical arm creaked unnervingly under your own weight. And a hand appeared before your face, which you took gratefully. And Garvey and you worked together to pull you from the wreckage. Bits of old scrap metal catching in between the gears and wires of your prosthetic. Which you took a moment to pick out.

 "Well, that happened, that was fun, we should do it again sometime" you hummed sarcastically, grimacing at the harsh sunlight after being stuck in gloom. 

 "You know, I could have always just let you slug it out with them instead, i'm sure you would've found that much more entertaining" Preston huffed, but there was no heat in his glare. Instead, he seemed to be fighting the urge to grin. An urge you didn't fight at all.

"Ooo lookit you getting all sassy, keep it up Garvey-boy, get your sass-master on" you whistled in praise. This was good. He'd been pretty stiff when you first met, and since you were obviously going to be spending some more time together now that your were general, you definitely wanted the guy to loosen up a bit. Just relax instead of always looking like someone stuffed a rod up his arse. Not that he was unpleasant to be around. Nah. His whole demeanor was just...awkward.

 "Keep that up and i'll have to promote you to super lieutenant".

"I thought I already was" Preston frowned.

"You got demoted for judging me for jumping off a building".

"Please never do that again".

"Ah don't be such a stick-in-the-mud, it worked--and nobody crippled themselves. Frankly, you should be praising my initiative"

"Oh ' praise your initiative alright, just maybe not when it almost you your legs" he almost scolded.

 You rolled your eyes, "If I ever lose these babies then strap my to your back by the arms 'n' wear me like a backpack". You were rewarded with a horrified splutter.

"General y--".

"My name is Maria, Preston" you corrected.

"...Maria, I don't think all this reckless behavior is very becoming of the leader of the Minutemen".

 "Preston. The risks I take are calculated. I'm bad at math, but warfare...has unfortunately been my life, you can trust me. Even if you don't get my gambles".

 You watched the man struggle to find the words. Before his shoulders seemed to slump in defeat. "...I really hope so".

"Good, you wont get anywhere in life without taking risks, all you can control is what risks you take 'n' where" you hummed wisely. At least ypu hoped it sounded wise. It was how you kinda went about life so if it wasn't wise then you were in for a heck of a predicament.

 "Anyway--are we almost there yet? I'm getting sick of looking at old buildings, i'd like to actually see signs of life at some point today", you paused, eyes flickering knowingly to Preston, "life that isn't trying to end ours anyway".

 "By the way, I was serious about that, if I ever lose my legs you get to carry me around by the arms like a backpack".

"General!" Preston exclaimed, and you had to fight back the cackle that bubbled in your stomach. Shoulders shaking with the force of your mirth.

"I could totally cover your back--literally".

 The two of you continued like that for a while before Preston notified you that the two of you were nearby the city entrance. An entrance--that you would have barely even noticed if it hadn't been for the guards standing. Well. On guard, dutifully by what looked like a garage shutter door. Only the entrance was definitely not a garage. It was too big, and the shutters seemed to be operated by a set of two very large, powerful looking cranes--and you recognized the building. It was the old baseball stadium, so those shutters must've been installed long before you woke up. Pretty good defense system they had going on to be honest. But the problem with having one entrance, was that it made it very easy for people to bypass it. Either with sneaky trickery. Or a shit ton of gun.

 You were about to approach the gates, stepping before preston in an authoritative manner, when you noticed a woman standing just before one of the two guardsmen, looking as though she were pleading. Which one of the men seemed beyond tired of. Making that clearer than the light of day when he retreated further into the structure with an indifferent look towards his partner. Who was subsequently left to handle the woman alone. 

 Now, you k lnow that the sight of people and the fact that there were, in fact--a population of other survivors alive somewhere out there should have comforted you. But...it didn't. This was a brand new world. With a new world order. And you couldn't help but think of how much you still didn't know. And that just made you all the more agitated to walk towards that gaping maw of a front door.

 Preston seemed to notice your hesitence. But otherwise made no comment on it. Patiently waiting beside you as you readied yourself for...something. you didn't like feeling so powerless and blind. Problems that you couldn't laugh or punch away always left an u pleasant tightening in your gut. And the sensation of distress in the first place. Brought with it a tsunami of other emotions and memories that you'd prefer not to remember at all. Especially when upset to begin with.

 It was like being back there. Back in that war. Before nate and family became the norm for you. War, you would deal with, it had been drilled into you since you could walk. But what really scared you. It was knowing that you could end up by yourself. To be the lone survivor with a sea of comrades and families corpses littering the ground around you. To be stronger than those around you.

To be the sole survivor was a terrifying thought.

 With a huff, and shaking out a noise that you suspected nobody really heard but you. You adjusted the mask that you'd been sweltering under for at leas a half hour. Which you'd donned after much consideration. But with the way those two people you'd saved just hours before, how they'd reacted to you even after you'd kept them from being eaten alive. You'd decided it was probably best to keep your face hidden until you knew where people stood on your race. Preston had tried to assure you that it wouldn't be a problem. But his argument had sounded weak at best. Even to him apparently, seeing as he made a funny face as he said it. But you felt a bit better knowing he'd tried to make you feel less like a monster.

 Now that you thought back on it. With how much you resembled those things--those ferals. You honestly couldn't blame those two bastards for being so jumpy in your presence. You probably looked just as ready to tear into em as the monsters did.

 Were you going to end up like that? One day? What if preston was wrong? What if...you really were a monster.

 You chuckled darkly at that, as you stepped forwards.

 It seemed that no matter what you did to assure the opposite, you really were designed to leave a bloody trail of death in your wake. Just like those monsters had planned. And now, you looked like one to match. How beautifully ironic.

Fuck it all.

You'd be damned if you were going to let what had been done to you define how you lived.

 You were going to save people. As many as you could. Like Preston wanted, a guardian of the Commonwealth had been born, the moment that Garvey had bestowed that title upon you.

But first things first.

 "What do you mean you cant open up the gate? Stop playin' around Danny! I'm standing out in the open, for cryin' out loud!" You heard the woman growl furiously as she stood pacing before the man, who seemed like he wanted to be anywhere but there at that moment. But you couldn't quite make out his expression behind the thick-set black goggles covering his eyes.

 "I got orders not to let you in, Ms piper I'm sorry, I'm just doing my job" he sighed heavily, looking thoroughly disgruntled as he said it. That didn't seem to calm the woman at all. And he got no pity from her As she continued to vent.

 " _Just doing yours job?_ " the woman scoffed incredulously. "protecting diamond City means keeping me out, is that it?". She made a frustrated motion with her arms, before dropping them back by her aides. "Oh look, its the scary reporter, boo!" She said in a mocking voice, scowling, and turning away from the door. 

Then she caught sight of you, and Preston. And her face lit up.

 You and Preston shared a look, well, he looked at you and you looked back. And while he couldn't exactly read yours, his expression said it all. He was uncomfortable.

 "C'mon Pr--" you began murmuring, only to be swiftly interrupted by the woman now marching over determinedly towards you.

 Oh no.

 "Hey, you want in too right? Help me out here?" She whispered whilst tugging on your arm. Only to seem alarmed when the metal which was covered by a thick sleeve gave way so that her fingers clasped against nothing but skeletal metal exoskeleton. Way too thin and too hard to be waved away by simple armour and extreme dieting.

 "Prosthetic" you murmured, to her apparent relief. And you nodded down to your exposed leg to enhance your point. Her eyebrows raised, in what you assumed was surprise ans maybe even a hint of awe before she seemed to shake her head again, focus back on the wide open, but unfortunately manned gate.

 The woman herself was quite a pretty lady. The colours she was wearing were a faded, dull kind of red. Dusty looking jacket coat with a stubby looking hat donned on her head. With a short, black, almost-shoulder length hair framing her face. Which was quite oval shaped, with dark eyebrows and a wide, but full lips, that were currently pressed into a thin line as she thought.

 You hesitated for all of three seconds, before shrugging, gently shoving her off to walk straight up to the young man manning the entrance. Whilst the woman, who you assumed was 'Piper', balked as you brushed her off. Garvey seemed equally unhappy about the situation, but you put a hand out behind your back, subtly gesturing for them to stay put, out of the guard Danny's line of sight.

 "Hey bud, gotta say I'm impressed, this place really is fancy. Guards and everything! We've been travelling all day to get here and I'm pooped, mind letting us through or do we gotta pay a fee?"

 "No entrance is free of charge--just don't cause trouble"

 "Okeydokey, c'mon you two lets--"

 He stopped you right then and there with a stern arm stretched out to block you by the stomach.

 "Sorry miss, but that woman isn't allowed through, but you and that gentleman are free to come inside"

 "Whaaat? That's not very friendly" you complained in a whiny voice. "Ill give you a super special friendship hug if you let her in? Pretty please?"

"I'm sorry i can--

"You aren't gonna turn away a poor, defenseless little crippled lady are ya? My arm and leg are all torn up--lookie I'm practically falling apart~" you lamented with a dramatic shove of both extremities up for his inspection. As if on cue, a wire snapped painfully that had been holding your wrist up taut. And so you hand flopped pathetically in its socket, and you cursed. But that wasn't acting--that actually fucking hurt.

 "Dude you cant just leave her standing there anyway, there's a pack of mutants hanging around and if she dies i can promise that'll look bad for whoever's in charge letting her get all torn up like that" you lied through your teeth. And Piper shivered in very real fear behind you, Preston just nodded frantically. Obviously not accustomed to lying.

 It seemed to do the trick, however. And the man groaned a painful groan before reluctantly stepping aside. Murmuring that if anyone asks, he wasn't the one who let you all in. And you gratefully patted his back, before happily skipping past him. Quickly followed by Piper, who offered a sheepish, but grateful grin to Dan. Before slipping past after you.

Preston, who came last in the Que, nodded and you think he even tipped his hat to the guy. But he was in the corner of your eye at this point so you weren't sure.

 Looking forwards. The sight that met you was...a lot of things. Stepping down the semi familiar stadium steps, you were immediately struck by how much had been crammed into the wide space available. A plaza like area with slum like buildings fitted snugly around an island area of what looked like a makeshift infirmary, which itself stood beside a charmingly furnished noodle store. Which consisted mainly of a bar--manned by a robot, with worn looking stools set up around it to serve as its seats.

 Closer to you though, there was a small alleyway that led to the plaza. One in particular manned by a small girl that looked to be trying to sell passers by newspapers with impressive grit for a child. Piper, who had been standing behind you, quickly shot forwards upon sighting her. Patting the child's head roughly and barking out a laugh when the girl in her arms grumbled something in complaint.

 It was awfully nice to see the fondness in the strangers eyes though. At least that was still left in the world. If people could still look at others like that--then there was still hope for this broken, ruined world.

 Now that the space beside you was free, preston easily slotted into it. Blowing out a sigh as he drank in the sight. "That woman sure has...", he paused, visibly struggling to find the words.

 "Balls? Gall? A feisty sense of determination and knows how to get her way and will inevitably outlive us all?" You helpfully supplied. And you were rewarded with a small smile from Preston, who snorted and, mu h to your surprise, patted your back roughly. And you stumbled forwards a little, but almost falling flat on your face was worth that warm look in his eyes.

 For a moment there. He almost reminded you of Nat--

 "You're such a dork" you snickered in retaliation, but Preston had already decided to busy himself with fanning himself with his hat. But you didn't miss the completely smug sideways glance he sent your way. It was actually great, his good mood was infectious. And you found yourself enjoying this new side of him that you suspected he was only really showing because you two were now in safe territory. You still couldn't quite convince yourself to relax, bit while the mans stance was definitely still cautious, he looked a lot calmer. And it was nice to see the mans face relax, unburdened by stress, clearly feeling relieved.

 The two of you moved through the alleyway after that. Waving a goodbye to Piper, who, amidst her hug-attack on the small child she was now tormenting, called for you to come see her later. You nodded, before stepping out towards the many open stands available. Immediately migrating towards the medical stand, which was when you realized that you had absolutely no idea what any of the owner guys wares were used for. Apart from the familiar looking syringe thing you'd found outside vault 111, there wasn't anything you could see that looked familiar. 

 You let Preston take the lead on that one. And he ended up purchasing a few of those syringes--apparently called 'stimpacks', handing over a handful of bottlecaps as payment. 

 Weird.

 He was about to nudge you away, b3fore you resisted, noticing that his eyes had mostly skipped over a whole array of other pills and inhalers. 

 "What are those?" You curiously asked, jabbing a finger towards the small collection of mysterious pills and bits ans bobs.

 "Chems" Preston answered with an air of disgust. "Better stay away from those things, you don't want to get addicted to those drugs".

 "Lemme buy a pack of those then" you less requested and more kinda decided. Picking up the only familiar looking items spread out amongst all of the drugs--a package of cigarettes, the packaging was a bit battered. But otherwise sealed.

 Preston agreed, but didn't seem happy about it.

 "Didn't take you for a smoker" he muttered in a way that clearly meant he was judging you with nothing less than disdain. And you shot him a sharp look in response, stopping him dead with a hand to his chest, irritation clear on your face.

 "I'm not, but i know people, and you'd be amazed at what offering a common vice can do to ease a bad situation" you said in a hard tone that you were disappointed you'd had to use today. "now stop giving me that look" you murmured, voice upset, and Preston's eyes seemed to soften. Looking slightly ashamed of himself. "Its making me feel dirty".

 After that little event, you practically dragged the man over to a station manned by a filthy Mister-Handy unit. Who greeted you in a cheery manner, but noticeably more gruff that Codsworths. It was here you noticed the very attractive display of ammunition and explosives.

 "Garvey, how low are you with that rifle of yours?" You asked without looking up to him.

 "I'm pretty low actually, better get some cells too, you're alright on 10mm right?"

 "Yeah i looted a ton from the Raiders, i got a lot of their shit too, we could sell 'em and get some more bullets, and a couple grenades would be handy".

 "Yeah, you get anything you think well need, ill sell of those".

 Whilst Preston was occupied with haggling a price for the shitty pipe pistols that you swiped from the bodies of dead raiders. You quickly gathered a healthy pool of different round of ammunition which Garvey complained at, until you pointed out that it was better to have all kinds of ammo just in case you ran out with your own. Looting could only take you so far, but there was no guarantee your opponents would be using the same round you were, especially considering that pistols weren't the only guns floating around in existence.

 "Don't count too much on guns anyway pal, you're acting as though running out of gun-power is a death sentence, haven't you ever had to gut a guy before?" You chuckled as you both split the loot between yourselves. At his horrified look, you slipped a few more bullets into his pouch. Yeah, you were gonna have to teach him how to shiv a guy. Suddenly you were feeling very concerned about this guys future. He didn't seem accustomed to fighting dirty. 

 "I think we're alright for food for now, lets ask around for that Valentine fella, id say split up but, when in doubt, i believe in the Buddy system" you half joked. Really, you just didn't wanna be alone in uncharted territory.

 It took almost no time at all to determine that this Valentine fella wasn't in the plaza. You'd ventured to ask the robot manning the noodle stand, but he seemed intent on asking if you wanted noodles. And only answered to yes, or no. Of course, every word it spoke was in helpfully vague Japanese.

 Fortunately, a man sat draped over the bar (looking thoroughly miserable as he drained a bottle of Nuka cola), heard you asking about the whereabouts of the mysterious detective. And bluntly pointed you in the direction of a back alleyway, apparently leading to his place of buisness. 

 Stepping behind the pleasantly buzzing, lit up center of the city, you were once again struck with how slummish the buildings really were. Crammed together so tight that you could've probably wall3d across the entire plaza on the rooftops without setting foot on the street below.

 Valentines office was tucked away right in the back of that dimsy, damp and tattered alleyway. A plain looking door stuck between two other unmarked buildings that you assumed were living quarters rather than some sort of store.

 Should you knock? Would that be politer? Well you wouldn't knock in any other kind of establishment, so why should you knock for this one? It was decided. You were knocking.

No response.

 You heard preston hum beside you, "Maybe this isn't the right--".

 That was all he managed to get out before you opened the door ans stepped in. And you heard him balk at your uninvited entrance, but you quickly shushed him to take in the sight that met you eyes.

 A desk stood before you. Just a little to the left, and along that side of the wall was completely lines with stacks of battered looking boxes. While to the right, sat an unusually places pile of cement blocks, with another desk drawer set aside in the corner behind. Right along the back wall, a picture of a simple stag stood proudly in the otherwise empty space. Defiantly askew.

 It was less than impressive, to say the least.

 "What are you doing in here? If you're looking for Nick, hes not around" a woman barked wetly from behind the desk. Her face was worn, and she looked tired, and judging by the swollen redness of her eyes, shed been crying too. Fairly recently you'd reckon.

 "Pardon the intrusion Ma'am" Preston greeted from behind you. Shifting his weight from foot to foot like a child that had done something naughty and was about to get scolded. She just shook her head, shoulder slumped in defeat.

 "Of he isn't around, do you maybe know where we can find him? Its kinda important" you pressed as politely as you could manage. But it still came out blunt. And you knew it, because she straightened up to face you squarely. Eyes squinting at you in an unreadable expression.

 "Gone" she bit out. Before she seemed to take in a breath, before regarding you with pitiful eyes. "I know I'm being rude, I'm sorry, but the detective--hes, hes gone missing" she admitted, sniffing and looking torn, evidently not knowing what to do with herself. Rude? You were the one who'd just invited yourself in. Whatever, you weren't about to point that out to her.

 You frowned. Everything just had to be difficult, didn't it? "You know where he was last?".

 "He was on a case looking for a kidnapped girl by Skinny Malone down by Park street station" the woman explained with a small, but unsure look on her face. As if looking at you for the first time.

 "There's an old vault down there that they use as a base. I told Nick he was walking into a trap, but he just smiled and walked out the door like he always does" she spat out with no real venom. Just exasperation.

Park street station. You looked to Preston. "You wanna go back to Sanctuary while i go get this fella or?" You offered. And both him and the woman now behind you startled. His eyes darted quickly from you, to her.

 "Ill follow you General, sounds like you might need some backup" he eventually said in a way that suggested he'd chosen his words carefully.

A delighted gasp sounded behind you, but you were already halflways out the door.

 "We'll bring the guy back lady, try to get some rest while we get em" you called back as you left. Your one hopefully comforting action you'd had the energy to offer. You'd never been really good with words. You had a smart mouth sure, but when it came to helping people through tough times, shitty jokes and pathetically structured pep talks where all you were good for.

 As the two of you left the city gates, you felt a nudge from Preston. And turned questioningly to find the guy beaming down at you.

 "Whats got you looking so happy?".

 "I knew I made the right decision when I asked you to be general. You really are a good person, I don't think I could've done what you did so easily" he chuckled.

 Huh? What had you done? You don't recall doing anything that impressive to warrant that kind of praise from the guy.

 "You didn't even hesitate to put yourself at risk for that stranger, you really are something, Mari".

 Oh. "It's Maria..." you muttered under your breath. Face aflame right to the tips of your ears from the compliment. And suddenly, you were all the more glad to be wearing that mask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FINISHED MY SYNOPTIIIIICS! YYYEEAAAAAAAAHHHHi'mtired. But I had fun writing this chapter actually. I'm growing real fond of Preston now, not that I ever really disliked the fella. Still, Maria seems to be enjoying herself.  
>  Yeah sorry for all the mistakes. I'm loaded up on Diazapam because i've had a mental breakdown. Fun.   
>  I hope you enjoyed this, and please, do leave a comment to let me know what you thought. And why not have a looksee at some of my other works? I have a bad habit of starting way too many stuffs. Yeah. I never learn.  
>  Till next time~


	8. Niiiiick~!

The car exploded in spectacular fashion as you leapt behind the flimsy excuse of a broken off car door as cover. And you immediately recognized the issue as the afterwave of searing hot air blurred your vision. Effectively blinding you for the moment, as you struggled to see past the fog at the people still shooting you from all sides.

 Something you tried to communicate to Preston. Who seemed perfectly happy to let you struggle for the moment, though was sure to drag you behind into a safer ditch. And you felt the heat of his back covering the only entrance, planting himself as a barrier between you, and whatever was out there. The sound of his rifle being fired was all you could really hear.

"DAMMIT I'M BLIND PRESTON CAN YOU SEE MY PROBLEM HERE?" You eventually screeched as you fumbled around for the foggy shape of your gun. Only to find that your metal fingers were scraping against a broken block of cement.

"I can. But you sure cant".

"GARVEY!".

 

 After that little episode, the rest of the trip was surprisingly calm. Preston slowly picked off the ambushers, and after about q half hour of being escorted around. Your sight eventually returned to normal . But they were still stinging. Dry, and irritable, and you couldn't help but rub far too hard at them in frustration. Even when Garvey scolded at you and batted your hands away. Eventually, what actually got you to stop, was you forgot that one of your hands was not as soft as the other. And ended up almost giving yourself a black eye.

 What was now bothering you, was that the pair of you had lapsed back into akward silence again. And the man walking beside you seemed content to keep it that way. 

 Now, as a soldier, you were fairly used to silent missions. The kind where you had to keep quiet and use stealth as a means of keeping your brain from getting a whole new hole. But the real issue was that this new world wasn't like those missions. Stealth was only an option when you knew where your opponent was, and otherwise, it was unpractical. Especially when you were working with someone you barely knew. You didn't work efficiently with people that couldn't read your...less than orthodox methods.

 This silence simply wouldn't do. Qt least not until you two were accustomed to one another. Otherwise you two would be in deep shit when shit hit the fan. You could picture it now--you didn't think Preston was the type to leave you to yourself. But you needed to be able to read the guy if you wanted to work as a team. Because that what you were now. Last time you had a team, you'd had years to get to know those guys, N-Nate included. And it had gotten to the point where you'd all known each others movements like the backs of your hands. You'd functioned fluidly. But now you didn't have the luxury of slowly opening up to people. Neither dis you have the general rundown of what you were looking for and where you were looking to it. This wasteland--it was uncharted, yet charted, territory. Where dangers moved and were born every day. Whether they were right in your face, or hidden in plain sight.

 So, with that thought in mind, you decided to pipe up. 

 "Hey Preston?" You started. The conversation now sparked and Preston gratefully seemed to latch onto it. "Yeah?".

 "How come you guy holed up in that old museum when those assholes attacked anyway? Why didn't you guys just hide in the sewers?" You asked innocently. And Preston seized up immediately,a look of frustration dawning om his face.

 "I didn't even think of that...I just thought to get something between us and the bullets" he half laughed, bringing up a hand to scratch at the back of his head. 

 Well, you supposed that made sense. It was probably just bad luck the guy wasn't naturally mean-spirited. He fought honorably, not...properly. not filthy fighting and dirty tricks. Otherwise, he probably wouldn't have needed your help, would've thought to use traps and filter the bastards in rather than let them spread around like rats. Then again, if he'd been like that, you seriously doubted he'd be the same kind of person that was standing beside you.

 Yeah. He was okay as he was. You could protect him and everyone else when they couldn't. There was no need to taint his hands too.

 "You know, for a vault sweller, you handle yourself oddly well" Preston commented after you didn't speak again. And you turned to glance at him.for a moment, head cocking to the side as you both strolled in-step. 

 "Vault dweller? Is it that obvious?".

 He nodded. "The outfit for starters, and you talk about the war as if you saw the bombs drop like all the other pre-war ghouls, i just don't know how you managed to suck up so much radiation all safe in that vault" he explained patiently. And you bobbed your head as you remembered that you'd first encountered the man wearing the vault-tech suit. How had you forgotten that?

 "Yeah, 'safe', that's what it was" you spat out. The mere words feeling like something nasty in your mouth, and you bitterly regarded the ground at your feet. As if all the resentment you had for those vault-tec asshats could be conveyed through the wrath of the earth alone. It disturbed you even more though, when Preston sent you a knowing look. As if that was common knowledge.

 Maybe you weren't as much a monster as you thought. Because someone else was beginning to look a lot more monstrous in comparison.

 Anyway, you had another question to answer to. Better focus on something else. Or you'd just upset yourself.

 "Yeah, I was in the military before all this happened, id just retired a few years before everything went to shit".

 His jaw dropped. "The military? As a soldier?" He asked, seemingly aghast.

 You shrugged, "Yeah? Why".

 "Its just--" he seemed to have trouble finding the words. But he looked...disturbed. "you seem so...young".

 Ah, yeah. That. "As a kid i didn't have any parents, so i got sold to some shady people when i was really young. Groomed me to me the ultimate killing machine, basically, the short of it was they used me as a guinea pig war pet" you evaded. You didn't really feel like getting into the nitty gritty details just now. But if you wanted him to open up to you, it'd be hypocritical to hide anything from him. So you continued. "I guess i got lucky when i was put into Nate's division, he was the first real friend id ever had, him and his team, my team--were like a family, a lot of them were K.I.A", you felt your voice wobble a bit at that. So you made a show of clearing your throat before you kept going.

  "But when Nate found out what had happened to me, he was outraged, he exposed the bastards and he sent me home, to his wife Nora. The compensation i got was enough yo buy a house right across the street, but the two basically adopted me as family by the time Nate came home two years after me".

 You looked to Garvey. Expecting to find devastating pity or otherwise on his face. But instead, he just looked deeply upset, and of course, shocked beyond belief. But, above all that--there was utmost respect on his face. He didn't think poor of you for what had been done. But instead, he almost shone with pride for you. And it made you feel a little lighter.

You didn't want pity. Or to be coddled up like a child. You knew that he'd probably never understand how that simple look of pride in his eyes had meant to you.

 You gave him.a few minutes to digest the bombshell of baggage you'd just dropped on him. You understood, that was a lot to just simply know without any real prior warning. Anyone would need a minute to kinda get it right in their heads.

 Eventually, you watched as something in his jaw set. Am he nodded slightly to himself, eyes darting between you and the path ahead. "If that was the short of it, id hate to know what else there is to that--you're a strong person Maria, and...", finally, his gentle eyes met yours, and you flashed him the biggest, brightest, shit-eating grin you could muster, "I'm glad to have you on my side".

 "Same to you pal, growing up in a world like this, i don't think you had it all that easy either" you easily praised. And it was true. For anyone to have survived this long in such a broken and violent world, you had the utmost respect for managing to make it. And for Preston, all the more. As it seemed he'd managed to retain a resolute sent of morality in an immoral, crooked wasteland.

 It took a while to find the entrance to the subway that the strange lady had told you that Skinny fella was hiding out at. But you'd been glad to know you were reasonably familiar with the place when she'd said it. As before the bombs had dropped, you had always enjoyed sitting there in town by the lake. Which now resembled more of swamp than anything, with an ugly, sewage colored scum frothing at the top, and an eerie, dangerous looking smog filling the air just above it. 

 You'd made sure to steer well clear of what had once been a place of solace. 

 "I just don't like the look of it" is what you'd said to Preston. Who'd gave you a funny look before apparently deciding it best to indulge, and both of you steered well clear of the parks centerpiece. Giving the pond a wide berth by using the rusting fences as a guide to stray no closer. Really though, the entrance to the underground was well out of the way anyway, and henceforth all the more appealing. 

 "So, General, have we got a plan here?" 

"yeah, don't get shot and shoot anything that shoots at you" you joked as you both pressed yourself flush against the staircases walls. Keeping your voices low, as already there were others chattering away, audible in the gloom. 

 "... General I don't think--" 

 "I was kidding Garvey, geez, right, I know the area well enough, we can get to the end of these stairs without being spotted if we keep our heads down, I say we stay there for a bit and try and get an idea of how many folk we're up against". 

 Preston nodded thoughtfully at that, evidently more pleased by this response than its first. "Yeah, I think it's safe to assume these guys are hostile, sounds like they're patrolling".

 "If we don't alert em we can probably take out a handful of em in one go with a grenade, induce some panic, scatter em about a bit, so long as we keep the high ground we can pick em off relatively easily, once we've dwindled them down enough I'll head in, circle around an flush em out--I trust you can handle it from there?". 

"You got it, just keep an eye out for any reinforcements coming up behind you". 

 "Same to you, there might be some roaming up top that we missed, keep an ear open" you whispered, before patting him roughly on the back and taking the lead. Ducking down low and taking time on your decent, with Preston following closely behind, until you stopped completely just a meter before the bottom. Holding a hand up to signal Preston to stop and not send you careening down the rest of the staircase. 

 You could hear a handful of separate footsteps, but the huge space left an echo that made it hard to pinpoint a number very accurately. So you could only assume maybe roughly ten people. A sneaky peak over the side gave you a rough estimate of where everyone was located, and even better--what firepower they were packing. It seemed, from what you could see anyway, that most if not all of them were loaded with assault rifles. And wearing comically similar suits and ties like some kinda hitman-mobster wannabe crew from the 1980's. Harder to move around in. Good for you, not so good for them. They'd be restricted in those rigid clothes, so they'd most likely fire from the hip instead of bothering to aim. Nice big target to hit--so long as you were wary of the spray. As long as you and Preston hit em hard and fast, you'd most likely be able to take most of em down before they could even react properly. 

 Thank god for weird fashion senses. Got people killed but at least they'd look damn good going down huh? Pfft. 

 "On three, we stir shit up loud 'n' scatter em" you instructed bluntly, and you felt Garvey nod grimly behind you. Both of your hands tightening a fraction on your respective weapons, him, his plasma rifle. You, dual wielding your pistol in your left hand, and your knife in your right. 

"One", you both sucked in a breath. 

 "Two", Garvey shifted his weight behind you. Feet crackling quietly against the grit and dust underneath his feat. 

 "Three". 

 Right on cue, both of you leapt from your hiding places, taking aim and nailing at least four guys down before the group below could even establish where the shot were coming from. Just blindly diving for cover in a panic, wildly searching around to find their attackers. A handful made the mistake of gathering behind the same cluster, and learning why that was a mistake when your grenade rolled under their feet. Blowing them to pieces with a thunderous boom, and knocking their allies that had stood too close to the ground in the aftershock. People were screaming, and a hail of bullets were pinning you both down as they embedded themselves into the wall above your heads. Showering you in a rain of splintering concrete and dust. The smell of scorched flesh and the metallic scent of blood quickly filled the enclosed space. 

 You could hear that amongst the chorus someone calling frantically for aid. And you decided it was now time to step into the fray, because they'd all learned their lesson's at this point. Opting to remain well back under the overpass that interrupted your view from the higher ground. So with a quick warning to Preston, you hopped right over the ledge. Knowing that most crosshairs would be pointed at the bottom of the staircase. If not right above your firing point. You landed with a grunt, launching yourself in a hasty zigzag towards the fire, faster than you'd ever gone in your life. Taking advantage of the artificial strength of your artificial leg, using your false arm to shield your body as much as you could. But still, you still felt the sting of bullets digging into your flesh as they whizzed by. Creating a multitude of ugly gashes across your body, which you ignored. Instead choosing to propel yourself harder in a sudden B-line for the walkway in which the group had decided to hide behind. Using the railways ledge as a comfortable hiding spot to duck under. Snatching a fallen man's weapon as you vaulted over the walkway. Twirling around as you landed and twisting to spray fire at the small hoard of men. Who--those that didn't get hit anyway, leapt right over in the very opposite direction. Fleeing towards Preston waiting eye as they swore loudly in response to you gutsy move. 

 Until finally, it was quiet. Eerily silent. But silent nonetheless. 

 "You alive back there Garvey?" you nervously called back, voice cracking in your dry throat hoarse from wheezing. It took a moment. But you spotted Preston hat, followed quickly by the rest of him, peer over the side. 

He looked tired. 

 "I'm good, you? Looks like you're bleeding there" he responded in a faraway voice. 

 You nodded, waiting patiently as he moved to take his place by your side again. And pretending not to notice as he glanced a worried eye over your open wounds. 

 "Just cuts and scrapes" you said by way of easing his concern, and his shoulder sagged a little as he sighed. Eyeing the desolation surrounding you both. 

 "Doesn't matter how many times I do it, don't think I'll ever get used to this" he said a bit sadly. And you cocked your head thoughtfully at his words. Turning them over carefully in your head. You understood what he meant. But you were more relieved than upset, quiet meant you were safe. Victory meant you were alive, and that the people you were fighting for would live along with you. 

 But still, what you actually said was,  "Yeah, I know what you mean". Pausing in unison as you both surveyed the damage you'd caused before he spoke up again. 

 "And we've got to talk about you and your risk taking Mari--your fighting style is just damn right insane". 

 Heh. That was what he had to say? Really? It worked didn't it? Why complain about that? 

 "And now you know why it took me fifteen teams to find a group that could work with me in the military" was you smug answer to that. Earning you a very much drained look from Preston, who opted to say nothing. 

 You didn't even bother trying to swallow the bubbling laughter from that. "Don't worry bud, I think we work pretty well together, if that puts your mind at ease". The look he shot you told you it didn't, and he grimaced when you snickered harder. 

 The two of you steadily covered ground after that. Working methodically to get by the guards that would've probably been fired bad off the bat for sucking at their jobs. Y'know. If they weren't dead anyway. A couple of times, Preston suggested that you just simply sneak past them all. An idea you shot down immediately. Explaining to him in the most dismissive way possible that tactically speaking. Having enemies behind you to either surprise you in the middle of battle or blocking your escape, was just plain stupid. He certainly didn't look pleased, but he didn't argue. And soon enough, you made it to somewhere were there were little in ways of lookouts. And you both ducked down low as you heard what sounded like somebody talking. Peeking through the doorway telling you that the guard was almost completely alone. If not for the other man, who was standing behind a layer of glass. Looking very prisoner-like and not-willingly-there-ish. 

"How ya doin' there Valentine? Feelin' hungry?" a mocking voice sounded, and it didn't take long to find its owner. A snide looking fellow in the same garb as his fellow minions leaning smugly outside of the cell. Peering at the lone occupant inside. 

"Keep talkin' meathead, give Skinny Malone more time thinkin' about how he's gonna bump ya off" another voice answered back evenly in response. So you could only guess it belonged to the prisoner, who you also cleverly deduced must be the Nick fellow you were looking for. Nothing to do with the fact his identity had been handed to you on ax silver platter. 

"Don't give me that crap Valentine, you know nothin' you got nothin'" 

"Really? Cuz I saw him writin' your name in that black book of his, 'Lousy cheatin' card shark' I recall his exact words. And he struck the name across three times" 

"three strikes--in the black book? But i never--" 

 Taking his distraction as your cue to intervene, you did so by darting out from your hiding spot in a flash. And then ramming your fist straight into the side of the unfortunate guards face, effectively knocking him out cold as his neck snapped in the opposite direction. Very hard. You might have actually broken his neck to be honest. Eh, so sad, too bad. You weren't gonna be losing sleep over it, that's for sure. 

You were really more focused on the spectacle standing before you to really focus on much else. And you vaguely registered Preston coming up behind you, muttering something about you warning him before doing stuff like that in a disapproving tone, before you completely zoned out. Head to busy elsewhere to hear what he was saying. 

 The man you'd thought to be being held captive, was indeed held behind a prison of glass. A single door in and out, and the cell itself being moderately small--even if nicely decorated as far as prison standards went. But the real point of interest rested not with the room. But the man himself in it. 

He wasn't human. 

 That was for certain. But he wasn't what you were either. He wasn't a ghoul, but instead... Well, you weren't really sure what he was. But the best description that came to mind would've been 'robot'. And he was very neatly dressed, in almost comically stereotypical detective-esque attire, consisting of a long brown trench coat. Dress pants and shoes to match, and a charming fedora hat to top his whole look off. 

 That was about when all traces of normal went out the window. His face consisted mostly of a very ivory white looking plaster--some of which had broken away to reveal the exoskeleton underneath. The frame glinting in the hallow of where his cheek should've been, and following all the way down to his neck. Spider like cracks marred the intact surface of the rest of his face. With piercing, glowing yellow iris's peering from the shadowy overcast his hat provided. 

 "Nick?" you asked in a very monotonous tone, eyes still scanning his features, too busy to focus on conversation.

 "In any other situation, I'd have't' ask who's askin', but seeing as I'm already up to my neck in it, guess that wouldn't do me any good" was his answer. Revealing his voice to be very... Normal. Smooth, and a little higher than Preston's. He pulled a face, and while you marveled at how the hell plastic could be so expressive, he continued. "So yeah, that's me". 

 You just blinked stupidly at him, while he seemed to shift uncomfortably under attention. "Gotta love the reverse damsel-in-distress scenario" he muttered guardedly. 

 "OH MY GOD A ROBOT MAN! Nobody told me we were rescuing a robo-man!" you squealed as you quickly ran over to the terminal by the door. Mentally thanking your military training as you hacked away into the system with relative ease. Looking up only when you heard the doors locks hiss as they released. Busting through the door to get a closer look at the strange man who seemed to be deeply uncomfortable at your reaction. 

 "Not fond of synths stranger?" he drawled coolly. Eyeing you with a stern look that went completely over your head. 

 You didn't know what that meant. "Are you kidding? This is the best day of my life--you're all mechanical and lookie, I have robo limbs, so I think that means we should be best friends". 

 The transformation was instant. Suddenly, Nicks whole physique seemed to relax--and you hadn't even noticed how tensely the man was holding himself until he relaxed. A friendly grin breaking across his face as he evidently recognized that you held no hostility towards him. But he still looked relatively guarded, and you realized then that maybe that was just how the world worked now. But still. He didn't seem entirely opposed to your company. So you considered that a small success. 

 "You really are something else" came a voice from behind you, and you turned to find Preston mulling in the doorway. Eyeing the fallen guard warily as he approached. 

 Noting the distinct lack of his usual warmth in his tone. You took this as a sign of upset. 

 "Don't worry Preston, you're my best human friend" you reassured him. Earning a small chuckle from the man in question, and he shook his head. But opted to remain otherwise silent. Like he didn't have the heart to correct you on something. 

 Ah well he was smiling now, so everything was probably okay. 

 "So, do you two always make such a ruckus when saving a damsel in distress?" the detective joked as he offered out a skeletal hand towards you. And you gripped it enthusiastically, giving him a nice firm handshake in greeting. Flashing him as toothy grin as you discreetly felt up the guys hand in a totally not creepy way. Before inevitably releasing your grip, and allowing your hand to fall back to your side, your prosthetic hand busy playing with the hem of your sleeve. 

 "She likes to make an entrance" Preston said, eyeing you, and cringing. You gave him a questioning look in response, not entirely appreciating his tone, Nick just raised a scoffing brow.

"you're telling me, did'ya see how hard she socked the fella in the jaw?". 

 "Sure did, I had a front row seat". 

"She always this... Unpredictable?". 

"I'm standing right here you two" you whined, screwing your face up as you stood between the taller men like a child having a tantrum. Shaking Preston by the arm in complaint. 

"she's done crazier, you don't get used to it" he assured the synth man, who just seemed all the more amused by Preston defeated sounding tone. Like he was enjoying a comedy act on TV on an evening with a nice glass of wine or something. "Well as much as I appreciate the two of you coming to cut me loose, we've got bigger fish to fry now that you've presumably came in guns blazing, won't be long before we have the heat heading in our direction, and fast". 

 "Eh I'm not too worried, assuming you can shoot mister detective, I'd say we're about evenly matched" you waved away easily, glassily sticking a finger into your ear canal. An action that left both men scrunching their noses at you and you unladylike behavior. 

 Tough shit for them. 

"S'much as your confidence is admirable I doubt that bold promises are gonna help us when we're swarmed Miss" Valentine politely admonished, only to receive a very unimpressed look from you.

Needless to say, you'd taken his no doubt harmless intended comment as a deep insult. He'd said that, probably because he hadn't the foggiest about you or Garvey, but that meant he'd also had to look you in the eye. Look you up and down and make that judgement, decide what you may or may not be capable of all in the span of minutes of meeting you. Needless to say you were more than a little offended that's the picture he'd painted. 

"Pal, I've been stuck in the heart of no-man's-land with nothing but a pencil, a shit ton of empty rounds and a can-do attitude, you don't get to tell me we're fucked more ways than a prostitute when we have a team three heads strong and more ammunition than a firearms factory" you scolded coolly, pointing an accusatory finger to his nose and pouting like a twelve year old as you did it. Meanwhile, Preston reacted by sighing as he fanned himself with his hat. Offering Nick a sympathetic look over your head as the very alarmed mech-man took a visible step back. With eyes that seemed to say 'Just go with it'. 

 "... Right, well, there's still the matter of getting outta here, we can talk then" he wisely avoided. And you smiled warmly in satisfaction at him for his obvious guilt. Mood once again light. 

 "No worries Nicky-boy" you said, tapping your nose with a cheeky wink. "I have just the plan".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's late. But finally--we meet Nick, and so far it looks like making friends with our favourite synth detective will be a biiit harder than making pals with Garvey. This guy is definitely a lot more guarded, and with good reason too.  
>  We also learned a little bit more into the backstory of our protagonist. Looks like there's a lot more to Mari than we first guessed. The next chapter will definitely be obe to look forwards to.  
>  Anyway sorry it's late--I've been preparing for MCM comic con. So excited, I just wish I'd found out about it sooner, or I'd have had the chance to make my costume.  
> I have way too many hobbies. Anyway, I'm getting way off topic--next chapter we'll have to see how the new addition to the party fares. Who knows? Maybe Mari's 'unusual' personality will get Valentine warming up to the duo? Or maybe it'll do the exact opposite...
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed. If you did, why not leave a comment? Or even if you didn't, I'm always partial to some good feedback.  
>  Till next time~


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